Invisible Touch
by Garnet Seren
Summary: Feelings and emotions are tricky things. But when people have secrets, and personal demons to deal with, things can get a whole lot harder. Especially in a world where nothing is clear cut, and presumptions can be costly... An unusual double romance of Trevelyan/Cullen AND Trevelyan/Solas (by reader request)... however, this is not a typical love triangle. FYI UK English not US.
1. A Short Introduction

**A Short Introduction**

I'm not normally one to do any sort of introduction to one of my stories, however, this story was born quite a bit different from my others, and I felt it earned some explanation. This is, as it says, a Dragon Age Inquisition story. It will be a complete, chronological story, although it's creation was inspired by the several oneshots I had previously written, based on the game. I had wrote so many long (we are talking between 4,000 – 7,000 words) oneshots, that it got to the point that I figured I might as well start compiling them together to form a cohesive story. The oneshots that this story includes are: A Night to Remember, Presumptions, and Those You Can Rely On. Which have since been deleted from their separate posts. Originally, I had intended to keep a oneshot-esk format, making each chapter extremely long. However, as of 24th May 2015, I realised that was no longer working for me. I found that the long word count had started to put me off working on this story. I had not updated for nearly three weeks, and considering my other two long standing fanfics (This One's Heart is Pure &amp; The Mage's Assassin) are updated at least weekly, I felt something needed to change that would benefit my readers. And help encourage me to write for this fic again. So, with that in mind, I decided to restructure the story. Breaking up the chapters to follow the same style as my other two fics.

As stated, this is and will be primarily a Cullen/Trevelyan romance. And will be told through Trevelyan's PoV. Though some chapters will be from other PoV's, and I will state at the beginning of the chapter, who that is if it differs from Trevelyan. However, there are occasional chapters that focus on other pairings, namely Trevelyan/Solas, which is a slightly underlying theme. I place the blame for that squarely on the shoulders of my friend Lady Velvet C. Peterson, to whom this is dedicated to, especially the Solas sections and chapters. For she is the one that pointed out the undercurrent, after reading: Those You Can Rely On. Though I hold my hands up... drooling over Cullen is_ all_ my own doing!

If you would like to know an overall inspiration for this story, other than the game itself, listen to the Genesis song: Invisible Touch.

For those who have been following this fic for some time, I hope the restructuring is not too jarring for you. Now with all that being said, please move on to the next chapter and I hope you enjoy the story.


	2. First of the Last Call

**First of the Last Calls**

Her head pounded, her throat was parched, and her eyes were not convinced it was time to wake up. She felt as if she was suffering from hangover over of the age, though there was no foul taste in her mouth, to hint she had previously drank her own weight in alcohol. With a slight groan of pain, she managed to roll herself over. _'Why does everything hurt?'_ she wondered. The tinkle of breaking class made her eyes reluctantly open, and she groggily regarded a young elven girl with short, chestnut brown hair and olive eyes. A young elven girl, who happened to looked like she had just seen a spirit.

"Oh! I didn't know you were awake," the girl stuttered, seeming both awed and terrified at the same time. "I swear." The reaction was utterly confusing.

"Don't worry about it," she smiled sleepily, sparing a quick glance about the room. She didn't recognise it. Nothing from the comfortable bed she lay on, to the grey furs on the walls, were familiar. "I only..."

Before she could finish her reassurance, the girl dropped to her knees, forehead touching the floor. The elf was practically cowering. "I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing. I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, milady."

Distressed by the young girl's display, she forced herself to sit up, swinging her protesting legs over the side of the bed. Her privileged upbringing meant she was no stranger to being called 'milady'. But the servants of her family's estate, both elf and human alike, had never cowered the way this girl was. And being a mage, it was a long time since anyone had so much as bowed or curtsied to her. Begrudgingly, the mage's body followed her will, and she knelt in front of the girl, hoping to offer some sort of reassurance. Though she was still utterly confused as to why she was being asked for her blessing.

"They say you saved us," the girl continued, almost as if she could read her mind. However, the elf didn't looking up from the flagstone floor. "The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

Glancing at her left hand, it all came flooding back. Waking up in a cell, the glowing mark, the accusations and disgusted looks. A stone faced warrior, a smiling dwarf and an aloof elf. The gruelling trek up the mountain side, the biting cold, the grateful soldiers and the damn demons. Especially that last bloody Pride demon. She had never channelled so much energy, as she had in that last fight. But something else troubled her groggy mind.

"Three days?" the mage whispered, mostly to herself, before her eyes fell again to the trembling elf. Gently, she gripped the girl's shoulders, forcing the elf to sit back on her haunches and stop grovelling. "So the danger is over?" she asked cautiously.

"The breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say." Suddenly the girl scrambled to her feet. "I'm certain that Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened. She said: 'At once'."

Cassandra. That was the name of the warrior. "And where is she?" the mage asked, stiffly moving to her feet.

"In the chantry, with the lord chancellor," the girl stuttered, backing away towards the door. "At once, she said." With that, the poor elf scurried through the door, which banged shut behind her.

Shaking her head in confusion, the mage slowly moved towards the small basin that was set in a corner of the room, and gratefully splashed the icy water onto her face. Though it stung, the freshness served to awaken her. Peering into the small looking glass that hung above, she appraised her reflection and grimaced at the pale face that stared back. Dark shadows ringed bloodshot eyes, her cropped red hair was dishevelled and there was a gauntness to her cheeks that reminded the mage that it had been a _long _time since she had a decent meal. Quite frankly, she looked a mess, and she didn't have a scrap of make up on to hide behind.

_'Evelyn Trevelyan, what _**have**_ you managed to get yourself into now?'_ she wondered. Her thoughts echoing her mother's often exasperated voice.

Belatedly, Trevelyan realised she was only clad in a white nightshirt. Or at least, a man's shirt that was serving as a nightshirt. _'Wonder who this belongs to'_ she mused, inhaling the faint fresh scent that lingered on the cotton.

Determinedly, she began to search for some clothes. And after several minutes of rooting, Trevelyan found a russet colour tunic and a pair of dark grey, lambswool trews, neatly folded in a small trunk. Further searching unearthed a pair of battered leather boots, and a long knitted scarf. After dressing quickly, she took a final, scowling look at her unforgiving reflection, before burrowing her nose into the scarf, and stepping out into the biting cold.

It was not the frigid temperature, nor the thick covering of snow that stopped her in her tracks. But the immense crowd of people, that lined both sides of the tiny street. Self-consciously, Trevelyan began to walk, trying not to freak out at every bow, curtsey or "My Lady" that was relevantly whispered as she past. The last time she had saw the majority of these people, they had been calling her a murderer and clamouring for her death. Now they were acting as if she was some sort of saviour. To say she felt unnerved, would be a gross understatement.

As she made her way towards the chantry, Trevelyan felt as if every pair of eyes were on her. She briefly caught sight of the dwarf that had accompanied her to the temple, the famed Varric Tethras. He raised an eyebrow at her before giving her a friendly nod, which somehow seemed to relax her. Drawing closer to the impressive stone building, she spied the elf who had also fought by her side. Solas was his name, if her memory served her right. He was regarding her, almost coldly... but he too offered her an encouraging nod.

If any of the crowd gathered around the chantry's grand entrance, noticed how Trevelyan's hands shook as she placed them against the weathered oak, they were kind enough not to say. Her stomach was in knots, as she pushed against the heavy weight. She was filled with trepidation, and unsure what fate had in store for her. As the doors ominously creaked open, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and stepped inside.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So this is the first part of the rewrite of this story, and has always been written w******ith thanks to Lady Velvet C. Peterson for allowing me to adapt and use Nadia in this. Title of chapter, and slight theme, based on the Husker Du song of the same name.****


	3. We've Only Just Begun

**We've Only Just Begun**

Trevelyan's head spun, far worse than it had when she had first awoken. Herald of Andraste. Well... that was a turn up for the books. Especially for a mage, who had stopped believing the Chant of Light over a decade ago. Still, they were no longer braying for her death. Well... no one except the chancellor, the annoying weasel. And now she was a member of a fledgling Inquisition, not that Trevelyan felt she had any real choice in matter. Though not for the reasons that one might expect, given the circumstances that had led up to her 'acceptance'.

The mark on her hand, really did mean she had a chance to help fix the catastrophe, that the whole of Thedas was now facing. So how could she, in good conscience, walk away from that? Trevelyan also had her first mission, so to speak. To find this Mother Giselle, who was somewhere in the Hinterlands. However at Cassandra's insistence, they were not planning on departing until sunrise tomorrow, which gave Trevelyan the rest of the day to explore Haven. A day that she planned to spend trying to get a feel for the people around her. Those she would be working with for the foreseeable future.

"Ah, Lady Trevelyan. I trust you are feeling better?" a heavily accented voice enquired.

She quickly whipped around, to find an attractive woman with dark hair and bronzed skin regarding her. Even without hearing her voice, it was clear to see this woman was Antivan, and Trevelyan offered her a polite smile.

"I am Ambassador Josephine Montilyet," the woman continued. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Respectfully, Trevelyan gave a slight bow. Since she was never being one to curtsey, if she could get away with it. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Montilyet," she replied.

For a moment the other woman seemed to hesitate, before stepping forward and pressing a small pouch into Trevelyan's hands. "Please do not think me forward, and yet..." the ambassador trailed off, looking nervous as she stepped away again.

Curiosity piqued, Trevelyan opened the drawstring of the small pouch, and nearly laughed in delight at the contents. Inside was a pot of what appeared to be face powder, complete with poof, and a smaller pot of rouge. There was also a small tub of mascara, a jar of what looked like dark green eyeliner, and even a pot of red lipstick. Along with all the brushes she would need. It was obvious the ambassador was worried this gift might offend. But if she were honest, Trevelyan could have hugged the other woman.

"Josephine, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship," she grinned, not bothering to hide her delight.

Lady Montilyet visibly relaxed, and gave her a pleased smile in return. "I have took the liberty of having a bath drawn for you, as well as having some more appropriate clothes to be delivered. They should be awaiting you, in your cottage," she explained. "Though, if you please excuse me, I have a meeting with the Marquis DuRellion to attend to." With a polite nod, the ambassador retreated into a nearby room.

A warm bath was too inviting an opportunity to miss, so Trevelyan quickly retraced the steps she had taken only two hours before. Utterly grateful that the crowd had dispersed. She spared Varric a wave as she passed, deciding that he and Solas were two of the main people she wanted to talk with that day. However, the spy master: Leliana, had also mentioned a Commander Cullen. Reasoning that the man might be able to point her in the direction of a reliable staff, to replace the one she had been forced to scavenge during the treacherous mountain hike, Trevelyan decided he would be her first port of call... after her bath, of course.

Upon entering the small cottage she had awoken in, Trevelyan found the same elven girl laying out a set of clothes. There was a pair of fine, grey leather trousers and a cream silk tunic edged with lace. A military style jacket with shining silver buttons, that was done in the same leather as the trousers, had also been provided. A tub of steaming water sat by a roaring fire, and the fragrant smell of citrus oil, obviously sent by the ambassador, filled the air.

"Hello," Trevelyan's called out in greeting, not wanting to startle the young elf. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Oh milady!" the girl gasped, giving a hurried bow. "I am here to serve."

Trevelyan couldn't help but wonder why the girl seemed so nervous. Until she noticed that the elf, once again, would not meet her eyes. A sickening feeling gripped her stomach, as she regarded the young woman. The nervous timid nature, the down cast eyes, the seemingly desperate need to please... when she took a long, hard look... it was rather obvious. The poor girl had once been a slave.

"Well, after finding out I was a mage, I never expected to have a Lady in Waiting," Trevelyan smiled, fondly remembering Madame Shianna, her mother's elven handmaiden. "What should I call you?"

Somewhat shyly, the girl smiled at her. She seemed encourage by the thought of being an assistant, instead of a servant. "I am Nadia, mistress."

Fighting back the urge to cringe, Trevelyan shook her head. "And I am Evelyn, or Trevelyan, whichever you prefer. But please, no mistress, no milady, and _please_... not herald." The latter came out as a plea, rather than a request.

For a moment Nadia hesitated before nodding, her pretty smile widening slightly. "Your bath is going cold, Lady Evelyn," she advised.

Holding back the need to correct her, Trevelyan merely smiled politely. It was probably too much to ask for Nadia to relax around her so quickly, after being so scared. "You are right," she agreed, unwinding the long scarf from her neck. "And I refuse to let your hard work go to waste."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This was the second section of the original first chapter. Minor edits have been done, and the chapter title and some of the content was inspired by The Carpenter's song of the same name.**


	4. Brown Eyed Handsome Man

**Brown Eyed Handsome Man**

Despite the moderate warmth the supple, grey leather of her trousers and jacket provided, Trevelyan still found herself wishing for an overcoat, as she hurried through the snow covered court yard. And as the frozen slush began to seep into her battered boots, through cracks in the worn soles, Trevelyan found herself resolutely deciding new footwear was also in order. A gentle, but biting breeze, whipped at her cropped red hair. And the sound of clashing swords, and the scrape of steel on wood, greeted Trevelyan as she neared the training grounds.

"You there! There's a shield in you hand, block with it." A strong, masculine voice called out. "Lieutenant, don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practise one."

For the second time that day, Trevelyan was stopped in her tracks as she regarded the commander. He was tall, broad shoulder and stood radiating authority, as he regarded the troops. He wore a shining, silver chest plate, with matching shoulder and forearm guards. Yet the rest of his armour seemed to be comprised of a rich, russet leather. About his shoulders was an impressive fur pauldron, that blended into a leather overcoat. For some reason, it reminded Trevelyan of a lion, and she smiled at the thought. Despite the armour, the commander's head was free of a helm, allowing her to see his curly, strawberry-blonde hair. His chiselled face was adorned with attractive stubble, warm brown eyes and enticing lips, complete with a very sexy scar. In short, as far as Trevelyan was concerned, the commander was heart-achingly handsome.

"Andraste's ass!" she cursed under her breath, as she noticed something else about the man. It was in his rigid, perfectly erect stance, and the aura he seemed to emanate. There was no mistaking what this man was, a Templar.

"Maker's balls!" Trevelyan cursed again, as she steeled herself for a less than pleasant conversation. For she doubted a Templar would be pleased to be working with a mage. An apostate mage, that had not long ago, been suspected of murdering the Divine to boot.

When the commander noticed her approach, he seemed to freeze for a moment, before drawing himself up impossibly taller. By the time she stood in front of him, Trevelyan realised the top of her head barely made it to his chin. Ever so slightly, she caught a fresh scent about him. Almost like pine, and reminiscent of the shirt she had woken up in. For one ludicrous moment, Trevelyan wondered if it had been his shirt that she had been wearing, but dismissed it outright. He was unmistakably a Templar, and she was unmistakably a mage.

_'Why in Thedas would he loan my unconscious self a shirt to sleep in?' _she wondered.

"Lady Trevelyan," the commander greeted formally. He even went as far as to give her a slight bow, much to her surprise. "We've received a number of recruits. Locals from Haven, and some pilgrims," he explained, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. The commander paused, regarding her silently, before his mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile. "None made quite the entrance you did."

Trevelyan blinking in surprise, if she didn't know better, she would think the commander was teasing her. She literally bit her tongue to hold back a witty rebuke. "I just hope I can help," Trevelyan replied instead. It was honestly said, but lacked any hint of her friendly, fun-loving personality.

"As do we all," he replied seriously, though his eyes seemed to softened as his stance relaxed, though just the barest amount. "It's enough that you would try."

Feeling this was an opening to start a conversation, rather than a debrief, Trevelyan gave the commander an appraising look, before asking: "How did you find yourself here? Nothing as dramatic as myself, I hope."

Another hint of a smile appeared to tug at his mouth. "I was recruited to the Inquisition from Kirkwall, myself," the commander stated, gesturing with his hand in an invitation for her to walk with him. "I was there during the mage uprising," he explained as they strolled along the perimeter of the training grounds. "I saw first hand the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse."

Self-consciously, Trevelyan regarded her hand. "I must have this mark for a reason," she mused, remembering how the elf Solas had first grabbed her hand and used it to close a rift. Subconsciously, she rubbed her wrist, where he had bruised her. "It will work, I'm sure of it."

"Providing we can secure aid," the commander replied. For a moment, he gazed at the horizon, before giving her a sideways glance. "Which I'm sure we can. The chantry lost control of both Templars and mages, now they argue over a new Divine as the breach remains." He turned fulled to Trevelyan then, his warm eyes full of conviction. "The Inquisition can act, where the chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that," he said, impassioned. "There's so much we..." he trailed off, looking suddenly embarrassed and rubbing the back of his neck. "Forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture," he apologised, somewhat sheepishly.

Both the commander's passion and embarrassment were utterly charming. Trevelyan found herself smiling, whole-heartedly, at him. "No, but if you have one prepared, I'd love to hear it," she teased. The words slipping out before she had time to sensor herself, and his answering chuckle sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.

"Another time, perhaps," the commander smiled. He seemed much more a man, and a lot less like a Templar in that moment. "I... ah..." Cullen stumbled over his words, seeming to debate if he should say something, before simply sighing. "There's still a lot of work ahead."

Trevelyan had the distinct impression that was not what the commander had originally intended to say, but before she could question him, a soldier hurried over, brandishing a clipboard. "Commander," he greeted. "Ser Ryden has a report on our supply lines."

Unable to help herself, Trevelyan gave an amused snort at the soldier's perfect timing, before smiling ruefully at Cullen.

"As I was saying," he drawled, giving her a slight bow.

As if from know where, advice given from both her mother and Madame Shianna, who were less ladylike than they perhaps should have been, flitted into Trevelyan's mind. Barely dampening down a smirk, she began to walk away, swaying her hips just slightly more than necessary. She could practically feel the eyes upon her as she walked. And now, freshly clean, make up on and wearing well fitting clothes, Trevelyan didn't mind the attention. Especially when there were no awed whispers of 'Herald' or 'Milady' to accompany it.

Pausing at the edge of the training ground, she glanced over her shoulder. To her amusement, and slight delight, Trevelyan found Cullen still regarding her. Feeling utterly impish, she gave him a brazen wink, before slipping through the wooden gates and heading to find Varric.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the third section of the first chapter. Minor edits &amp; additions have been made, to enhance this as a stand alone chapter. I love how adorable Cullen is in the scene, in game, &amp; I wanted to make the most of it. The chapter title is inspired by the Chuck Berry song of the same name, &amp; I couldn't resist using it!**


	5. Sharp Dressed Man

**Sharp Dressed Man**

Master Tethras was not hard to track down. Clad in a bright red, open neck tunic and sitting in front of a roaring camp fire, the dwarf was hard to miss. He was also rather attractive. Which was probably partially due to the absence of a long, trademark beard dwarven males were known for. Varric instead had well kept stubble, with his blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail. However, he had an impressive amount of chest hair, which was shown off by his tunic and the circular, silver pendant he wore. Two silver hoops adorned his right ear, with a single hoop in his left. For all intents and purposes, he was roguishly good looking, with a friendly smile and a cheeky glint in his caramel eyes.

"So, now that Cassandra's out of ear shot, are you... holding up alright?" Varric asked.

He shifted slightly, making room for Trevelyan on the log he was sitting on, which she gladly took. Unceremoniously plopping herself down beside the dwarf. From out of seemingly nowhere, Varric produced a dark green bottle, and uncorked it. The heady aroma of red wine assaulted Trevelyan's scene of smell immediately, and she smiled at him ruefully.

"I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas, to joining the armies of the faithful," the dwarf continued, taking a hearty swig from the bottle, before passing it to Trevelyan. "Most people would have spread that out a bit."

Trying to hide a grimace at his accurate assessment, she knocked back a mouthful of the sweet liquid, before smiling weakly at him "I don't even want to think about how many lives were lost on that mountain top," Trevelyan admitted, handing the bottle back to Varric.

"A lot of good men and woman didn't make it out of there," he agreed, corking the wine. "For days now, we've been staring at the breach while demons, and Maker-knows-what, fall out of it. Bad for moral would be an understatement. I still can't believe anyone was in there, and lived."

"You and me both," Trevelyan agreed solemnly, stretching her legs out in front of her. "It was pure luck I escaped."

"Good luck, or bad?" Varric asked, giving her half a smile. "You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I've written enough tragedies to recognise where this is going. Heroes are everywhere, I've seen that, but the hole in the sky... that's beyond heroes. We are going to need a miracle."

His words made Trevelyan realise the dwarf was quite possibly thinking about the Champion of Kirkwall as he spoke. She had read his infamous book, and knew the pair had been close friends. She hope her fellow mage was alright. Both the Champion, and the Hero of Fereldan, were something of inspirations to her.

"How is Hawke?" she asked respectfully.

For a moment, Varric regarded her carefully, almost suspiciously, before giving a small nod. It was as if he had just decided something... perhaps if he could trust her. "She's good. Her and Fenris are doing well."

Smiling in genuine relief, Trevelyan got to her feet and lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad," she told him truthfully. "If you ever need to talk Varric, I'm happy to listen."

"You too, Beautiful," he grinned. "I need material for my next book."

"You don't need to bribe me, Handsome," she teased. On impulse, Trevelyan kissed him lightly on the cheek, before heading off in search of Solas. As she walked away, Varric's chuckle followed her.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Originally the fourth section of the first chapter. The chapter title, and some of the theme, is inspired by the ZZ Top song of the same name.**


	6. Talking with Wolves

**Talking with Wolves**

"The chosen of Andraste," the lithe elf called out in greeting, much to Trevelyan's surprise, as she approached. "The blessed hero sent to save us all."

For the life of her, Trevelyan couldn't decide if Solas was joking, sneering, or being serious. He seemed harder to read than even the commander had been. "Sounds dashing," she quipped dryly, once she had reached the top of the snow covered stairs. "I didn't ask for this, but someone has to stop the breach."

"A noble sentiment," Solas stated, earning him a raised eyebrow in response. "You think I'm mocking you," he observed. "This age has made people cynical."

"You'd be amazed at how open minded I am when I've not woken up in a cell, accused of murdering the Divine, then dragged up a mountain," Trevelyan drawled, a smile quirking her lips. "Or it could be from waking up, after losing three days, to find find a whole village is suddenly bowing to me... after wanting me dead. Actually, when I say it like that... You _not_ mocking me, is probably the least surprising thing that's happened lately."

A faint smile was on the elf's mouth, as he turned towards one of the nearby cottages. Without preamble, he open the door, and stood aside for her. Inside a fire burned warmly, and from what Trevelyan could see, the single room was neat yet inviting. Glad to be out of the bitter cold, she gladly accepted his kind offer.

Solas lead her silently to a chair by the hearth, and as he did so, she took time to appraise him. Solas stood a little taller than she did, though he was broader in the chest than any other elf Trevelyan had ever encountered. He was bald, with grey eyes that radiated an undeniable intelligence. His skin was smooth and unblemished, his lips full, though looked like they rarely smiled. He had a dimple to his chin, and of course, trademark elven ears that tapered almost elegantly. To be truthful, he was rather attractive, in his own way. Though not a type Trevelyan would usually go for. Time had told her she had a 'thing' for blondes.

There was an air of confidence about him, evident as he moved around the small cottage, making what appeared to be a pot of tea. He wore green, cotton trews under a long line, cream, woollen tunic that would have exposed his chest, if not for the high-neck, olive coloured shirt he wore beneath. About his neck hung a peculiar pendant, a type of aged animal jaw suspended on leather cord. On his feet, he had forgone the traditional elven bindings Trevelyan had seen many elves wear, opting instead for a pair of leather boots that fairly matched her own. Though his looked in a lot better condition.

"I've journeyed deep into the Fade," Solas stated, as he handed Trevelyan a steaming cup of amber liquid, before sitting opposite her. "In ancient ruins and battlefields, to see the dreams of lost civilisations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clashed to re-enact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war has it's heroes, I'm just curious what kind you will be."

Despite knowing he had all but asked her a question, Trevelyan couldn't help but get blind-sided by what else had been said. "I'm sorry... but what do you mean, ruins and battlefields?" she asked, her curiosity evident.

"Any building strong enough to withstand the rigours of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits," Solas explained. "They press against the veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has seen."

"You fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins?" Trevelyan was part impressed and part horrified at the notion. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"I do set wards," he chuckled. "And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live."

For a moment Trevelyan simply gaped at him, before remembering her manners. "I'll have to remember that," she grinned ruefully, finally taking a sip of her now tepid tea. "I must admit, I've never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade. That's extraordinary."

"Thank you," Solas replied, seeming slightly surprised by her praise. "It's not a common field of study for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightening."

Smiling upon realising he chose to mention both their preferred elements, Trevelyan subtly reheated her cup of tea, that she held in both hands. "It's a remarkable field of study," she observed, taking another sip of her drink, relieved it was warm again.

"The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand year old dream... I would not trade it for anything," the elf confessed. Suddenly, his face closed off, and he stared into the dancing flames of the fire. "I shall stay, at least until the breach is closed," Solas said, solemnly.

"Was that in doubt?" Trevelyan asked, her brows furrowing as she regarded the elf.

His head snapped towards her, his jaw sternly set. "I am an apostate amidst chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you, of all people, understand my caution."

"Just a little," she smirked. "But Cassandra trusts you. I'm sure she wont let anyone put you into a circle against your will." Trevelyan paused then, tilting her head to the side, and gave the elf an appraising look. "And I'll hurl one of those fireballs you seem so unimpressed with, at anyone who tries."

Solas regarded her silently for a moment, obviously trying to decide if she was serious or not. "Thank you. I appreciate the thought," he said, deadpan. "But for now, let us hope the mages or the Templars have the power to seal the breach."

"Indeed," she agreed, before draining her tea. "Do you have any thoughts on this whole mess?"

"Closing the breach is our primary goal, but I hope we might also discover what was used to create it," Solas admitted, leaning back further into his chair. "Any artefact of such power is dangerous, the destruction of the conclave proves that much."

"You don't think whatever caused the explosion was destroyed in the blast?" Trevelyan wondered aloud, carefully setting her empty teacup on the floor beside her chair.

"You survived, did you not?" Solas reasoned, sounding almost as if he was teasing. "The artefact that created the breach is unlike anything seen in this age. I will not believe it destroyed until I see the shattered fragments with my own eyes."

Letting his words sink in, Trevelyan nodded slowly. "Anything with that kind of power is bound to show up sooner or later," she agreed.

"Leliana's people have scoured the area near the blast, and found nothing," Solas replied, wincing as he finished his now cold tea. "Whatever the artefact was, it is no longer there. In any case, is there something else you wish to discuss?"

Several heartbeats past as Trevelyan warred with herself. Propriety demanded she take her leave, since his words rang slightly of a polite dismissal. However curiosity got the better of her, as usual. It was something that had been getting Trevelyan into trouble ever since she was a small girl.

"I'd like to know more about you, Solas," she stated, bluntly.

A look of surprise flashed in the elf's grey eyes. "Why?" he questioned, cautiously.

Perplexed, Trevelyan's brows furrowed in confusion at his aparently wariness. "Other than the fact that you're an apostate, yet you risked your freedom to help the Inquisition?" she asked.

A small smile formed on his lips as he regarded her. "Not the wisest course of action when phrased that way," he admitted.

Returning his smile with one of her own, Trevelyan fought hard to remain eye contact as she began to feel self-conscious. _'Why can't everyone be as easy to talk to as Varric is'_ she wondered.

"Solas, I respect you, and I really appreciate the work you're doing, even if no one else does," she explained, beginning to worry the edge of her cuff as she often did when feeling uncomfortable. "I just wanted to know more about you."

"I am sorry," Solas apologised, his grey eyes falling to her hands, which in turn, rapidly stopped Trevelyan's subconscious fidgeting. "With so much fear in the air..." He took a breath, almost as if steeling himself for what was to come. "What would you know of me?"

Sensing the elf's obvious discomfort, Trevelyan wished she had taken her leave, when she had the chance. However, it would be rude to suddenly depart. So she chose a topic that, hopefully, wouldn't cause offence or distress. "What made you start studying the Fade?"

Her question must have been less intrusive than he fear, for Solas seemed to relax slightly. "I grew up in a village to the North. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome," he admitted.

Despite having been taken from her family to the Ostwick circle due to her own magic ability, Trevelyan couldn't help but think that his life sounded lonely. However, she doubted he would appreciate such a sentiment.

"Did spirits try to tempt you?" she asked instead. Trevelyan honestly doubted she would be talking to him, in the here and now, if that had seriously happened. But asked none the less.

"No more than a brightly coloured fruit is deliberately tempting you to eat it," Solas replied, echoing Trevelyan's own feelings on the matter. "I learnt how to defend myself from more aggressive spirits, and how to interact safely with the rest. I learnt how to control my dreams with full consciousness. There was so much I wanted to explore."

"That's amazing," she almost whispered, genuinely awed by his admission.

"Thank you," Solas replied, seeming a little embarrassed, though perhaps a little flattered, by her amazement and obvious interest. "Eventually, I was unable to find new areas of the Fade."

The Fade being limited was a new notion for her. "Why?" Trevelyan asked, honestly wanting to know more.

"For two reasons. First, the Fade reflects the world around it. Unless I travelled, I would never find anything new. Secondly, the Fade reflects and is limited by our imagination. To find interesting areas, one must be interesting," he explained.

"I think you're plenty interesting," Trevelyan quipped. Once again, the words slipped out before she could sensor herself. "So is that why you joined the Inquisition?" she hurriedly added, trying not to dwell on the curious look he gave her.

"I joined the Inquisition because we were all in terrible danger," Solas said at length. "And, if our enemies destroy the world, I would have nowhere to lay my head while dreaming of the Fade."

It was an effort not to chuckle at his reasoning. "Well, I wish you luck," she told him warmly.

"Thank you." Once again, Solas sounded surprised at her simple acceptance. "In truth, I have enjoyed experiencing more of life to find more of the Fade," he admitted.

A dozen innuendos flashed in her mind. But instead of revealing her improper thoughts, Trevelyan schooled her face and asked: "How so?"

"You train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit," he observed. "You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike, because it leads to a destination you enjoy. As have I."

Raising an eyebrow, Trevelyan couldn't help the impish smile that broke through her mask. "Indomitable focus?"

Meeting her gaze unabashed, Solas shrugged. "Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine the sight would be... fascinating."

The double entendre was more than evident, and Trevelyan's impish smile turned positively wicked. Though just as she was about to ask if that was a challenge, there was a sharp rap on the wooden door.

"Lady Evelyn," a small voice called.

Giving Solas an apologetic smile as they both rose, Trevelyan followed him to the door, noticing how his face had suddenly closed off again. Without ceremony, he opened the door, revealing a slightly snow speckled Nadia.

"Is everything alright?" Trevelyan asked, not bothering to resit pulling the girl into a hug as she shivered. "You're frozen," she chided, rubbing the girl's thin arms.

"I'm alright," Nadia protested, though happily clung to her for warmth. "Lady Josephine requested the pleasure of your company for high tea."

"Our company," Trevelyan corrected, smiling at the surprised expression on the girl's face. "If you are of a mind to join me, that is, Madame Nadia. It wouldn't do for me to attend a social engagement without my Lady in Waiting now would it?"

Nadia gasped in delight, and nodded enthusiastically, as a gust of wind carried a fresh flurry of snow. Trevelyan turned to apologise to Solas, for letting the cold air into his cottage, only to find him regarding her with a mixture of amusement and surprise on his face.

"Thank you for the tea," she smiled warmly.

Spurred on by another cold blast, Trevelyan began to usher Nadia towards the chantry. However, the snow and ice covering the ground was slippier than either expected, and they were in such a hurry to escape the wind, that Trevelyan found herself suddenly colliding with a very solid commander, who had just emerged from the apothecary. In turn, Nadia bumped into her, and both women tumbled to the floor. For one dazed moment, they regarded each other, before Trevelyan risked glancing up at Cullen who looked both shocked and mortified. It was quite amusing to see, especially since it was Trevelyan who currently sat in the freezing snow. Another glance at Nadia cemented her amusement. The poor girl looked utterly confused as to how they ended up on the ground, and that set Trevelyan off giggling. Her laughter was soon joined by Nadia's and then Cullen's, along with Solas'.

"Instead of laughing at two damsels in distress, you could help us up," Trevelyan huffed, unable to hide her grin.

"Of course, my lady," Cullen smiled, gallantly helping her stand, as Solas helped Nadia.

"Are you heading for the chantry?" she asked.

After receiving a nod of confirmation from the commander, Trevelyan linked her arm through his armoured one. Chuckling at his look of surprise, she batted her eyelashes at him, much to Nadia's amusement.

"You will be a gentlemen and escort two lovely ladies to their social engagement?" she asked sweetly.

For a moment, Cullen floundered and almost seemed to blush. Though that was most likely from the stinging wind. "Of course," he agreed, offering his other arm to Nadia. "Though if I fall, I'm taking you both with me."

Laughing at Cullen's playful banter, Trevelyan glanced over her shoulder to find Solas had retreated to the warmth of his cottage, and stood leaning against the doorway. She raised a hand to wave farewell, but managed to slip on another patch of ice. It was only the commander's quick reaction, as he slipped his arm around her waist, that stopped Trevelyan making another fool of herself.

"Maker's breath, you're a menace," he laughed, pulling her close to his side.

"Good thing I have such a handsome commander to keep me in line," she teased, definitely managing to make him blush that time.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was the fifth &amp; final section of the original first chapter, and not much has been changed about it. Chapter title &amp; slight inspiration for the chapter is the Glen Hansard song of the same name.**


	7. You've Got a Friend in Me

**You've Got a Friend in Me**

It had happened so quickly, that it was almost a blur. One moment she, Varric, Solas and Cassandra were crossing a rather neglected stone bridge over a frozen river. The next she found herself hurtling towards the ground. As she hit the unrelenting earth, Trevelyan heard an ominous crack, just as her staff clattered out of reach. Closing her eyes, she sucked in as much breathe as her battered lungs would allow, certain she was going to be plunged into the frigid water. The creaking grew louder, yet the surface she was lying on didn't seem to move. A startled gasp wrenched her eyes open, and Trevelyan couldn't help but stare in horror.

"Herald?!" Cassandra shouted from above her.

"Trevi! Are you and Chuckles okay?" Varric added.

"Solas needs help," Trevelyan replied, her voice tinged with panic, as the elf's eyes locked with hers.

The frozen river began to splinter at an alarming rate, and fear gripped her. Gingerly she began to crawl forward, as fast as the burning in her chest would allow. It had become fairly obvious to her, that she had broken several ribs in the fall, but Trevelyan didn't bother to stop and heal herself. If she was going to help Solas get out of this, she would need all the mana she could muster.

"There's no way down," Cassandra informed, sounding as tense as Trevelyan felt.

Lying full length across the snow covered ground, she stretched out a hand to the stranded elf. Their finger tips briefly touched, before their luck run out. Solas' eyes widened in fear, before he disappeared beneath the surface. Without thinking, Trevelyan scrambled forward. Her head and upper torso submerged into the icy water, as she desperately tried to grab the sinking elf. Clenching her jaw against the stabbing cold, she silently praised the Maker she didn't believe in, when Solas' hand grabbed her wrist. Returning his hold, Trevelyan began to pull him upwards, as quickly as her rapidly depleting energy would allow. She felt several pops, as more ribs undoubtedly broke, but it was a small price to pay if her companion survived.

Panting and gasping, they broke the surface. With the last of her energy, Trevelyan helped Solas back to the gelid foreshore. After pushing her dripping, red locks out of her eyes, she cupped his face in her trembling hands. Her heart pounded in her chest, as she studied his stormy eyes. Though Trevelyan soon breathed an audible sigh of relief, when Solas regarded her with a gaze just as sharp as always. Numb and shivering, they sat side by side, silently looking up at Varric and Cassandra, who were still standing near the crumbling edge of the ruined bridge.

"Thank the Maker!" Cassandra exclaimed, actually cracking a smile for once.

"Heads up!" Varric called, as he brandished Bianca.

Despite raising an eyebrow, Trevelyan could guess the dwarf's intent. A heartbeat later, there was a loud thunk, as a bolt embedded itself into a nearby fir tree. A line of rope was attached to the arrow, and trailed it's way back to the bridge.

"Catch," Varric instructed, before Solas' pack made a hurried descent down the line. It had been a small miracle that the elf hadn't been wearing it for once.

"I don't know who I'm more in love with. You or Bianca," Trevelyan called back between chattering teeth, when the canvas bag was securely in her arms.

"Find shelter. We will look for a boat, or another means to cross and come back for you," Cassandra instructed.

Not wanting to waste any more energy shouting, Trevelyan carefully raised an arm in a salute of acknowledgement, before reaching down to help Solas to his feet.

"You're injured," the elf stated, as he noticed her wince in pain.

A smile tugged at the corner of Trevelyan's mouth. "No more than you," she pointed out, as Solas inhaled sharply, when he hefted his pack onto his back.

"There is a cave not far from here," he informed, ignoring her observation and handing Trevelyan her staff. His had seemingly suffered the fate he had nearly succumbed to.

Unable to refrain from rolling her eyes, she grinned at her companion. "Lead the way then, Fadewalker."

Her impromptu nickname actually managed to pull a chuckle from the normally reserved elf. Cautiously, attentive not to cause the other any additional injury, they slung their arms around each other for warmth, and staggered slowly in the direction of shelter.

With Solas guiding them, it didn't take long to find the small cave, that was nestled in a crevice of the nearby cliff face. The entrance was sheltered from the harsh wind by a thick coppice of evergreens, and thankfully there were plenty of dry branches that had been shielded from the snow, underneath the trees. As quickly as her battered chest would allow her, Trevelyan collected as many branches as she could carry along the way.

Once inside, she unceremonious discarded her load, in order to helped Solas unsling his pack. Trevelyan then set about making a fire. Mostly, the task consisted of arranging the previously dumped branches into a neater pile, and throwing a small fireball at them. For a moment, she allowed herself to pause, warming her tingling hands by the fire. Honestly, Trevelyan knew she was lucky. It was pure chance that she had fallen on solid ground and not the ice. And good fortune that she had an aptitude for fire, which had helped keep the worst of the cold out of her body. Solas had not been so lucky, and a quick glance at the elf, told Trevelyan that he was suffering. Badly. His normally pale skin had taken on a bluish tinge, and the slight shivering that she felt ripple through her body, was full blown shuddering for him. It was little relief to see the elf had managed to produce two dry blankets from his pack, but worry gripped Trevelyan, as she watched Solas fumble with the toggles of his overcoat.

Before Trevelyan had consciously processed the thought, she knelt in front of Solas, who now sat on the cold ground. Gently, she batted his hands away, her own taking up the task. Practicality overriding propriety, she proceeded to help him fully undress. And as soon as his sodden clothes were removed, Trevelyan helped wrap one of the blankets around him, before ushering him towards the growing heat of the fire. A quick glance at the remaining pile of wood convinced her that they had enough to last until the morning, then she followed suite. Hurriedly stripping out of her own damp clothes, completely unabashed. Life in the Circle hadn't given Trevelyan much opportunity for privacy, after all, and she had little time to feel self-conscious. The chilled air brought her skin out in goosebumps, and thankful for the slight warmth the woollen material gave, she wrapped the second blanket tightly around herself. Securing it like she would a towel.

Trevelyan could almost physically feel Solas' eyes upon her, as she carefully lay out their clothes to dry on the other side of the fire. Though, as she moved back around the fire, she was pleased to notice the worst of his shaking had abated. Stopping by his pack, Trevelyan raised an eyebrow in question.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing towards the bag.

Solas nodded his assent, but remained silent. Unperturbed by her companion's quietness, already chalking it up to another quirk that simply distinguished the elf, Trevelyan rummaged through the pack's contents. She was relieved to find a full canteen of water, and a few strips of dried druffalo meat.

"Here," she said, handing him several pieces. It wasn't much, but it would at least help see them through the night.

Minutes passed as they sat side by side, huddled for warmth, and resolutely chewing the toughened meat. The salty taste was not as bad as Trevelyan had fear, and with a sigh, she let out tendrils of healing magic that swirled around both of them. Her eyes drifted to the heart of the fire, as she basked in the welcome feeling of her ribs finally knitting themselves back together. A beaming smile formed on her lips, as she took her first deep inhalation since falling.

"You are not what I expected," Solas admitted suddenly, causing Trevelyan to look up from the embers of the fire.

"Oh?" she replied, smiling. "What have I done that is so surprising?"

"You have shown wisdom that goes against everything I expected," he explained, looking at her intently.

Chuckling, Trevelyan regarded her companion. "Why? Because I'm human?"

"More because you are a Circle mage," Solas said, finally smiling.

Figuring the elf was mostly joking, Trevelyan shook her head. "Snob," she teased, gradually ending her spell.

Several heart beats passed, the silence between them filled only by the crackle of the fire, and their own breaths. Then, in the distance a lone wolf howled. It was a terribly mournful sound, one that pulled at Trevelyan's heartstrings, and a sad sigh escaped her unbidden. If the look on Solas' face was any indication, he was moved by it too.

"We will be safe enough tonight," he informed, casting a glyph towards the mouth of the cave. "We should try to sleep." With that he rose, and started to unwrap the blanket from himself.

Understanding his intentions, Trevelyan helped smooth out the coarse material on the cave floor, before the pair settled themselves down. It was impossible for Trevelyan not to catch a glimpse of Solas' body, as she arranged her blanket over them. In truth, he was surprisingly impressive. Not because he was an elf, but because he was a mage. The men she had previously seen naked, had either been lithe or portly. Well, all except one, but he wasn't a mage... and that memory was best savoured for a lonely night. Solas was neither of those things. His life as an apostate had evidently sculpted lean muscles into his torso, and defined muscular legs and well shaped arms.

"You have a heck of a body," Trevelyan said, before she could stop the words from slipping out.

Silently, she cursed herself. If it had been Varric, or even Cassandra, Trevelyan wouldn't have worried about her censoring her comment. It wasn't said out of lust, just a statement of fact. But Solas was so reserved, it was often hard to gage what his reaction would be. She found herself worrying if she had caused offence. There was a heartbeat when nothing happened, then Solas tilted his head towards her.

"You are rather pleasing to the eye yourself," he said.

The elf's reply was so deadpan, that for a moment Trevelyan thought she had misheard him. Until she saw the slight smile on his lips as he turned on his side, facing away from her. Rolling her eyes once again in amusement, Trevelyan's lay close behind him. As her naked breasts pressed against the skin of Solas' back, she was shocked to feel how chilled he still was.

"Why didn't you say you were still so cold," Trevelyan chastised.

Frowning, she draped an arm across him and pulling herself closer. His silence was answer enough. Solas had been an apostate for most of his life, and by his own account, had fended for himself for the majority. Trevelyan could imagine that admitting he needed help, would seem like a weakness to the stoic elf.

"You know you're not alone anymore," she chided gently. "You have friends. Me and Varric have your back... some of us literally."

Thankfully, Solas chuckled at her pun, marginally relaxing into her embrace. "But not Cassandra?" he questioned, a smile evident in his voice.

"Do I think she would save our lives if needed? Sure. She is an ally and teammate," Trevelyan replied, making her head comfortable by leaning it on her free arm. "Do I think she would be a good drinking companion. Someone to relax with, or talk casually to... probably not."

"You reason shrewdly," Solas agreed.

Without warning, a yawn escaped her. "Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly.

"Sleep." His words were almost a command, for once he said them, Trevelyan could feel her eyelids closing. Though just before the Fade claimed her, she was sure she heard him say: "Thank you."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**So this was originally the first part of the second chapter, that was originally part of the one shot 'Those You Can Rely On'. I have decided that where I previously placed a page break, I will turn each section into it's own chapter. This chapter is d****edicated to RisingSm0ke &amp; tarepanda123, who favourited the original oneshot. Title of the chapter, and slight theme for the chapter, is inspired by the Randy Newman song of the same name.**


	8. Somewhere Only We Know

**Somewhere Only We Know**

The cold that had been biting, was merely a nip in the air now. Soft flurries of snow billowed around her, yet seemed to fall in slow motion. The usual sounds Trevelyan would expect to hear in a forest, were either muted, or completely absent. The noises she could hear, were muffled far beyond what a blanketing of thick snowfall would normally do. The sun was still low in the sky, casting a pinkish tinge to the white, virgin snow. Slightly in the distance, Trevelyan saw the figure that she hadn't fully realised she had been searching for, until she saw him.

"Greetings," Solas called. Though his gaze never left the horizon and the rising sun.

A smile tugged at Trevelyan's lips as she wandered over, gracefully sitting beside him on the overturned tree trunk. "How are you feeling?" she asked. Glad to notice he had stop shivering sometime during the night.

"A lot better," the elf replied succinctly, before taking a deep inhalation of breathe. "I was meaning to thank you, earlier, for your help and kindness. And also to apologise for any rudeness on my part." Whilst talking, Solas' gaze still never wavered from the sunrise.

Chuckling, Trevelyan shook her head. "I'm sorry if I snapped at you, I was just so worried," she admitted. "When you went under... well, I've not known fear like that before. And afterwards, I was worried about the effects of the cold or the shock on you." Her hands tangled themselves in her choppy red hair, as it so often did when she fretted. "I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

"You were that concerned?" Solas questioned, surprise evident in his voice, as he finally turned to face her.

For a moment, Trevelyan simply gaped at him. "Of course I was!" she replied, slightly indignant. "What sort of heartless monster do you think I am? You're my friend, Solas. I care about you. Of course I was worried."

The elf seemed to consider her words, before a small smile formed on his lips. "You surprise me yet again. But thank you for your concern, falon."

Raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar word, Trevelyan chose to ignore the backwards compliment. "Falon?" she asked.

"An ancient elven term meaning friend," Solas explained.

Smiling happily, Trevelyan reached to squeeze his hand gently. "I'm glad you're alright," she told him, moving to stand.

However, her actions were halted when Solas unexpectedly positioned his hand so it held hers, their fingers entwining. Blinking in surprise, Trevelyan looked quizzically at the elf, who looked away. The way Solas avoided eye contact, yet didn't release her hand, led her to believe that the usually stoic elf was feeling embarrassed, maybe even vulnerable. Not wanting to make him anymore ill at ease, Trevelyan settled back down beside him. And with their hands still joined, she contented herself with watching the horizon. Other than the slow rise of the sun, and the spreading warm glow that bled into the starless sky, there was no real telling how long they sat before Solas broke the silence.

"Truly. Thank you," he remarked. "I had not expected to find such kindness amongst the Inquisition. Nor did I expected to find a friend outside of the Fade."

The Fade. Why did 'the Fade' suddenly strike a chord with her? Warily, Trevelyan glanced about their surroundings. Fully taking in the unnatural quietness, and the stillness of the air. The picture perfect location, and the snow that had not even a footstep to mar it's unblemished surface. Then it dawned on her.

"This isn't real," she whispered, remembering what Solas had said about consciously being able to control his time in the Fade.

"That is opened to debate," the elf replied, actually sounding sheepish. "I've always found things easier in the Fade," he added, as his gaze fell to their still entwined hands.

A wave of sympathy washed over Trevelyan, as she regarded her companion. Instinctively she leant towards him, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "You don't need to explain," she told him.

A look of surprise painted itself on his features, until he cleared his throat with an embarrassed cough. "Thank you, again," he smiled. "Perhaps we can talk further, once you... Wake Up."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the second part of the second chapter. The original oneshot was inspired by ****the thought that after all that time spent alone, Solas might not be very adept at dealing with people outside the fade. Resulting in his perceived aloofness. The title for the chapter is inspired by the Keane song of the same name, and is dedicated to RisingSm0ke &amp; tarepanda123 who favourited the original oneshot.**


	9. The Morning After

**The Morning After**

Slowly her eyes fluttered opened, and Trevelyan was greeted by the sight of Solas lying almost nose to nose with her, his stormy eyes looking at her intently. The elf was holding himself stiffly, almost as if he was guarding himself for some sort of a reaction on her part. Only a moment later, Trevelyan realised that some time during the night, their bodies had entwined themselves together. For they held each other as lovers would, naked torsos flush, and bare legs tangled. Realising the cause of his discomfort merely caused Trevelyan to smile ruefully.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she grinned, not perturbed by their position in the least. Lest of all because it was still bitterly cold, the air making her shiver as the blanket slid slightly off her shoulder and back.

Solas seemed to visibly relax, actually pulling her closer, before rubbing his warm hands against her chilled skin. "And to you, falon. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. Thank you," she chuckled, as her fingers began to trace idly patterns on his back, on their own accord. "That... last night, was pretty amazing." In truth, Trevelyan was pretty blown away by the experience. She had wandered the Fade many times in her dreams, but never so lucidly.

"Indeed. You are rather skilled. To be able to maintain the connection for so long... it was impressive," Solas complimented, a slight hint of admiration in his voice.

"Well now. It's certainly good to know that Chuckles is amazing, and Trevi is skilled. Do you think that's enough inspiration for the next chapter of Swords and Shields, Seeker?" Varric's cheerful voice sounded even more jovial than usual.

"How should I know?" Cassandra replied tersely.

Stifling a groan, Trevelyan looked over Solas' arm at the pair of them. "Good morning Handsome. Cassandra. How nice of you to join us. I hope you brought breakfast," she quipped.

The seeker muttered something under her breath, before storming out of the cave, her face set like thunder. Varric on the other hand, simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and eyed both of them.

"It's the chest hair, I know. Ladies can't resist the chest hair," he chuckled. "And for you, Beautiful, I'm sure I can rustle something up once we get back to Haven. Just... don't tell Chuckles. He might get jealous." He punctuated his sentence with a wink for her, and a nod to Solas, before he left the cave.

"Lest we give our companions more things to speculate on, I suggest we get ready and join them," Solas stated, sitting up.

"We're already going in one of Varric's stories," Trevelyan shrugged. "So I'm only agreeing because it's too damn cold to do otherwise." She offered Solas a small smile of thanks as he passed her clothes.

"That does not bother you?" he asked, casting her a sideways look as he dressed.

"I can think of worse things to be accused of, than spending the night with an enigmatic fellow mage," Trevelyan replied, nonchalantly. As she tugged on her boots.

Solas paused momentarily in his act of repacking his bag. "But I am an elf," he stated.

She couldn't help but stare at him incredulously. "And if I become the sort of ignorant person who thinks humans are better than elves, you have my permission to strike me down with one of those lightening bolts you so prefer," she snapped hotly. Her own fire magic tingling along her skin, as it reacted to her annoyance.

"I do not think that will be necessary," he replied calmly, handing over her staff.

Realising the elf had been bating her to find out her reaction, Trevelyan narrowed her eyes for a moment, before deciding to let it go. She left the cave after ensuring their fire was truly extinguished, to find the dwarf and the seeker waiting for them by the coppice of evergreens.

"So I was thinking... It was a dark and stormy night," Varric's voice drifted across the frozen landscape. Just loud enough for Trevelyan to know he was doing it on purpose.

"And sanctuary from the cold could only be found in his strong, protective arms?" she suggested, grinning.

"You're encouraging him?" Cassandra demanded, incredulous.

"Sometimes there is wisdom in admitting defeat," Solas replied, dryly.

"Yeah, yeah. If you can't beat them, join them. Just admit it Chuckles, you like the idea of being a leading man," Varric teased.

"I can see there is a certain... appeal," the elf admitted, nonchalantly.

Laughing, Trevelyan slung an arm around Varric's shoulders, as they began to follow Cassandra's lead back towards the lake. "So... It was a dark and stormy night. A bitter wind was howling through the trees, and the only sanctuary from the cold was found in his strong, protective arms..."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This is the final part of the original second chapter. It is dedicated to RisingSm0ke &amp; tarepanda123 who favourited the original oneshot. If you really want it to, the past three chapters could be seen as a precursor to a Solas/Mage Trevelyan romance, but that was not what I had in mind when I originally wrote it. The notion was only pointed out to me after I had written half of the story. It was intended to explore the friendship dynamic between the pair more than anything else. Though it has, in turn, set the undercurrent of the entire story. Chapter title &amp; slight theme is inspired by the Maureen McGovern song of the same name.**


	10. Are We All We Are

**Are We All We Are**

Pulling on her dark, red leather over coat, Trevelyan stepped out into the fresh snow fall, adjusting her fingerless gloves as she did. She Hoped that by now, Harritt would have completed her new staff, that was being crafted from the Drakestone she had found in the Hinterlands. The trip to the forge would also afford Trevelyan a chance to speak the newest member of her elite team, as Varric had taken to calling them, and this 'elite team' had certainly grown. From the beginnings of just herself, Varric, Solas and Cassandra, it had now swollen to eight strong, and encompassed a varied range of personalities.

There was Lady Vivienne, enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais. A strikingly handsome woman, with an air of frost colder than Haven's snows about her. She was pleasant enough to speak to in polite conversation, but in general her lofty attitude and preference of beauty above function irked Trevelyan sorely. Then there was Sera, an elven archer who was aparently a member of the infamous: Friends of Red Jenny. Talking to the petite blonde was often as productive as running in circles, but she was a wicked shot, and occasionally a gem of insight tumbled out of her near constant nonsense. Next was the Iron Bull, a one-eyed Qunari spy who was leader of his own mercenary company. Going against the usual impression one had of Qunari, especially after Kirkwall, Bull was a hoot. Unapologetic about who, and what, he was. Friendly and easy going, he was just as laid back and easy to talk to as Varric was. He also seemed to have a 'thing' for red heads, something that Trevelyan and Leliana had already shared many a joke about. Finally, there was Blackwall, a Grey Warden recruiter and fellow Marcher. He was a ruggedly handsome man, with brown hair that fell to his collar bone, along with an impressive beard and moustache. However, circumstances had given Trevelyan little chance to speak to their newest member. Something she was determined to rectify today.

Tugging up the collar of her overcoat, in a feeble attempt to protect herself from the howling wind, Trevelyan hurried through Haven's gates. As she did, she shook her head in disbelief. Bull was bare-chested, as he talked to Krem, his second in command.

_'Crazy Qunari!' __Trevelyan_ thought affectionately, waving to them both as she passed.

A few more determined strides through the snow brought her to the forge, though Harritt was busy, bent intently over one of the anvils. However, Blackwall looked up from the workbench he was stooped over, and setting down his tools, he walked over the greet her.

"It's so much easier to ignore when it's far away," the warden stated, inclining his head towards the breach. "And to actually walk out of it, to be that close..." He gave her an appraising look, seeming almost impressed.

Still not used to the attention, Trevelyan shrugged. "If I hadn't been saved by the Inquisition's soldiers, I don't know what would have happened."

"Inquisition's soldiers? That's not what I've heard..."

Blackwall paused, obviously noticing her shivering, for he ushered Trevelyan into the hut adjacent to the forge. The room was bare, save for a few storage crates, though a warm fire burned within the hearth. Content to be merely be near the heat, Trevelyan sat unperturbed on the dusty floor, earning her an amused chuckle from Blackwall. Sighing, he crouched down beside her.

"The breach, the Divine's death, the wardens... it doesn't make sense," he confided. "There's so much we don't know."

"Your experience with the wardens will certainly be useful," she encouraged, giving him a friendly smile.

The warden gave a self-depreciating chuckle. "Mostly the treaties, I expect," Blackwall said, earning a raised eyebrow from Trevelyan. "Old parchments you're welcome to," he continued, obviously taking her gesture as confusion over the nature of the treaties, rather than the downplay of his worth. "What about you? How do you fit into all of this?"

Running a hand, absent-mindedly, through her cropped hair, Trevelyan gazed into the glowing embers of the fire. "It's been a whirlwind, it's hard to say where I fit," she admitted. "Really, I just want to help stop the war, to help put things back in order."

"A worthy goal. One I'm happy to support," Blackwall smiled.

Why her mouth often seemed to get the better of her, overriding her common sense and sense of propriety, Trevelyan was never sure. Yet she, once again, found herself speaking without censor. "You know, you are oddly charming for a man I found wandering the forest."

The warden looked a little surprised at her sudden declaration. "I always thought myself more odd, than charming. But I'll take a compliment from a lady. They are hard to come by these days."

Unable to help herself, Trevelyan grinned impishly at him. "Compliments? Or ladies?" she teased, punctuating her question with a raised eyebrow.

Laughing outright, Blackwall regarded her, amusement making his bluish-grey eyes sparkle. "Both!" he grinned. "So... is there something large and heavy you need moving?" he asked, obviously wondering why she had sought him out.

_'Why does hardly anyone believe I actually just want to talk to them?'_ she wondered.

"_That_ would be a waste of your particular talents," she flirted instead. If people were going to be confused by her friendly nature, Trevelyan figured she might as well have fun with it.

"Oh? Really?" Blackwall asked, his voice dropping slightly in pitch.

The huskiness of his tone only served to bring out Trevelyan's more flirtatious, playful side. "You're much better standing in front of dragons while they try to eat you," she teased.

His gaze softened as he smiled warmly at her. "I have to say, my lady, you are unlike any woman I have ever met." Unexpectedly, Blackwall took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. "I am flattered you would spend anytime with me. I enjoy your company."

Recalling her countless etiquette lessons from childhood, Trevelyan demurely cast her eyes down, covering her surprise at how gentlemanly the warden was being. Though, before she could think of a reply, there was a brief knock on the door, then Nadia's head peeked into the room.

"Lady Evelyn? Commander Cullen asks if you could join him inspecting the troops," the girl explained.

Taking in the slight pinched look on Nadia's face, Trevelyan shrugged out of her overcoat as she stood. "We really need to get you some sort of coat or cloak," she stated.

She held out her own overcoat, so Nadia could slip it on. Trevelyan was not a tall nor large woman by any means, but her coat dwarfed the petite elf. The material could easily have wrapped twice around her slender frame, and it trailed along the floor. It had rather a comical effect.

"You look like you've borrowed your older sister's clothing," she observed, affectionately.

"I think she has," Blackwall stated from behind.

Glancing over her shoulder, Trevelyan found the warden regarding her with an unreadable look. Simply smiling a farewell to him, she ushered Nadia out the door, shivering slightly against the sudden change of temperature. The pair walked briskly to stave off the cold, and soon drew level with the large wooden gates that separated Haven from the lake and training grounds.

"Go get yourself warm," Trevelyan advised, unable to help herself from securing the overcoat more snuggly around Nadia.

"If you are heading into the village, allow me to escort you," Krem called out, as he came to join them. Nadia blushed prettily as the Tevinter soldier offer her an arm.

Trevelyan subtly cast a warming fire spell as she watched the two make their way back through the gates of Haven. And once they were presumably out of earshot, Bull called to her: "Don't worry Boss, she's safe with Krem."

Raising a hand in a gesture of acknowledgement and thanks, Trevelyan turned and headed towards the training ground. Inexplicable, her heart seemed to skip a beat as her eyes fell upon the commander. He was as handsome as ever, standing proudly as he observed the troops, with an impressive backdrop of the snowy mountains adding to the picture. Giving her a warm smile, Cullen nodded his head in a friendly greeting as she came to stand beside him.

"You travelled some distance to reach Haven," he began. "You're from the circle in Ostwick?"

Surprised by the unexpected line of conversation, Trevelyan bit back the temptation to ask if he thought she still needed to be locked away. Choosing, instead, to answer his question calmly. After all... Cullen probably didn't mean to cause any offence by it. He didn't seem that type of man.

"I spent the better part of my life there," she admitted quietly. Life in the Ostwick circle hadn't been bad, yet it hadn't been particularly wonderful either. Though it did seem odd sometimes, to know she would never be going back. "It feels... strange to be away."

"It does, at times," Cullen agreed, his tone as soft as hers. "I'm still getting used to it myself. It's been... interesting. I'm sorry, I know the circle isn't the most pleasant topic of conversation right now. Or ever. Shall we speak of something else?"

Trevelyan smiled up at him warmly, oddly touched that this serious, ex-Templar had admitted to feeling just as lost as she was, in the midst of what was happening. "I'd like to know more about the Templars," she admitted.

"If you want insight into what the order is doing now, I'm afraid I can't offer more than you already know," Cullen stated. "Though anything else you wish to know, I will answer as best I can."

There were many things Trevelyan had always wondered about, some serious, others less so. She doubted she would get a better opportunity to indulge her curiosity, or find out more about the commander. "Do Templars take vows? 'I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages', that sort of thing?"

"Not... quite," the commander replied at length, a faint smile tugging at his lips "There's a vigil first. You're meant to be at peace at that time, but your life is about to change. When it's over, you give yourself over to a life of service. That's when you are given the filter, your first draft of lyrium, and it's power." Cullen paused, an unreadable look crossing his face, before he shook his head. Almost as if he was trying to clear his thoughts. "As Templars, we are not to seek wealth, or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the Maker, and the path we have chosen."

"A life of service and sacrifice," Trevelyan observed, before a less than innocent impulse took hold of her. There had been a running theme, idle chatter between apprentices, back at the circle. And unable to help herself, she simply had to sate her curiosity. "Are Templars also expected to give up physical temptations?" Coyly, she looked up at Cullen through her lashes, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

The blush creeping up his neck was quite evident, and rather adorable. "Physical? Why... would you...?" The commander glanced away from her, seeming flustered. "That's... not expected. Templars can marry, although there are rules around it, and the order must grant permission. Some... may chose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it's not required."

"Have you?" Trevelyan asked, giving Cullen flirtatious smile when his head whipped back to face her.

"Me? I... erm..." He shifted from foot to foot, crossing his arms, and looking incredibly uncomfortable. "No... I've taken no such vows. Maker's breath. Can we speak of something else?"

Taking pity on him at last, Trevelyan's smile became warm as she lay a hand on his armoured forearm. "Of course, forgive me for prying."

Gently, the commander placed a hand over hers, and for several heart beats they stood, simply regarding each other. _'Andraste's ass, he's handsome' _she thought, averting her eyes as butterflies began to flutter around her stomach.

"I know how I spent my time in the circle, but what was a typical day for you?" Trevelyan asked, looking back up into his inviting brown eyes.

"Typical?" Cullen chuckled, sending a familiar tingle down Trevelyan's spine. "The last time I was in a circle was just before it fell apart." He paused, seemingly realising their position, and giving a polite cough, he stepped away from her. "Nothing was typical."

"Before that then," Trevelyan enquired, moving to lean her weight onto her right hip, as she regarded him.

"Some rituals require a full guard, a mage's harrowing, for instance. I've attended a few." A barest hint of a smile twitched the corner of his mouth, as if he were remembering something, or someone. "Most of the time, you merely maintain a presence. On patrol, or in the circle. Ready to respond if needed. Mage's, on the whole, tend to ignore that presence, but they're watching you just as closely."

Again, there was another ghost of a smile, leading Trevelyan to decide that the commander was indeed remembering someone he was fond of. However, it was obviously a day for interruptions, because before she could ask, one of Leliana's agents hurried over to them.

"My lady Herald. Commander. Sister Nightingale and Lady Cassandra would like to see you in the war room."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the first part of my third chapter, which was nearly 8000 words long! Chapter title &amp; slight theme is inspired by the P!nk song of the same name.**


	11. Love at First Sight

**Love At First Sight**

Trevelyan stood, with a horde of demons laying smoking at her feet and another rift closed, trying not to stare at the most devastatingly handsome man she had possibly ever seen. When she had agreed to lead a team to meet the rebel mages in Redcliffe, this wasn't the turn of events she had imagined. From First Enchanter Fiona seeming to not remember her invitation to parley, and finding out the rebel mages had subsequently allied themselves to Tevinter. To meeting Magister Alexius, along with his son Felix, who had requested to meet in secret. Which ultimately culminated in a fight inside Redcliffe's chantry along side this, incredibly handsome, fellow mage.

"You're drooling, Boss," Bull whispered.

"Not doing too bad yourself, Tiny," Varric quipped.

"Fascinating," the man stated, evidently referring to her closing the rift. "How does it work, exactly?" he asked, gently taking her wrist and examining her hand. "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes."

There was a playful note to his seductive, accented voice. His close proximity gave Trevelyan the opportunity to better appraise his features. He stood just slightly taller than herself, and wore black trousers under expensive looking robes, which showcased his well defined chest and muscled arms. Thick, jet black hair shone like a raven's feather in the chantry's candle light, along with a carefully styled moustache and small soul-patch beneath his bottom lip. His eyes were a rich, soulful brown, his nose fairly straight, and his lips were extremely kissable. All this was complimented by a deep tan complexion, and accompanied by an alluring smell of musk. Quite frankly, this man's looks blew Cullen straight out of the water, which was really saying something.

_'Maybe I don't have a thing for blondes, after all' _she thought ruefully. In truth, Trevelyan thought she might have just fallen in love.

"Well, he's certainly more gentle than you were, Chuckles," Varric scoffed. Obviously teasing Solas about their first meeting, and how the elf had simply grabbed Trevelyan's wrist, before directing it at a nearby rift. His grip had been so strong, it had left bruises.

Choosing to ignore the conversation behind her, Trevelyan merely smirked at the handsome man, who was still holding her hand. "And who are you exactly?"

"Ah, getting ahead of myself again, I see" he smiled. And of course, his smile was utterly charming. "I am Dorian, of House Pavus," he stated, raising her hand to his lips, and kissing her knuckles in a very debonair manner. "Most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?" He gave a slight bow over her hand in a show of respect.

"Another Tevinter," Solas stated, coming to stand by Trevelyan's side. "Be cautious with this one."

Trevelyan gave the elf a questioning look, though it was Dorian who spoke. "Suspicious friends you have here," he smiled nonchalantly, releasing her hand. "Magister Alexius _was_ once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable. As I'm sure you can imagine."

Intuition was telling Trevelyan that Dorian would indeed be an asset, despite Solas' misgivings. However, something was troubling her. "I was expecting Felix to be here."

Dorian nodded an agreement. "I'm sure he's on his way," he assured. "He was to give you the note, then meet us here, after ditching his father."

"Alexius couldn't jump to Felix' side fast enough when he pretended to be faint, is something wrong with him?" she asked gently.

"He's had some lingering illness for months. Felix is an only child, and Alexius is being a mother hen, most likely," Dorian explained, though there was a sadness in his eyes that spoke silently of finality.

Deciding it best to simply accept the explanation, Trevelyan gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, before shifting the topic. "You're betraying your mentor because...?"

"Alexius _was_ my mentor," Dorian reiterated. "Meaning he's not any longer, and not for some time. Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious, even without the note." Despite his tone remaining calm and confident, the look he gave Trevelyan was almost as if he was pleading with her to believe him. "Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the rebel mages out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is _exactly _right. To reach Redcliffe, before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself."

"He arranged to get here just after the Divine died?" she asked, hoping for some sort of clarification.

"You catch on quick," Dorian replied, a smirk pulling at the corner of his full lips. "The rift here, you saw how it twisted time around itself. Sped some things up, and slowed others down."

"That is fascinating, if true... and most certainly dangerous," Solas interjected.

"Soon, there will be more like it," Dorian pressed. "And they will appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using, is wildly unstable. And it's unravelling the world." His jaw was set rigid as he finished speaking, obvious disgusted with his former mentor.

"You are asking me to take a lot on faith," Trevelyan observed. In truth, she was inclined to believe him. Really, it was no less crazy than waking up to a massive hole in the sky and a glowing mark on her hand.

"I know what I'm talking about," he defended. "I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don't understand is why he's doing it, ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackies."

"He didn't do it for them," a new voice announced.

As one, the five of them turned to regard Felix, who had just entered the chantry. "Took you long enough," Dorian greeted. "Is he getting suspicious?"

The younger Tevinter shook his head. "No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day." Felix sighed, looking from Dorian to Trevelyan. "My father has joined a cult, Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves: Venatori. And I can tell you one thing, whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you."

It didn't take a lot to realise this was hard for Felix, turning on his father and helping the Inquisition. Trevelyan's heart went out to him. "Alexius is your father, why are you working against him?" she asked gently.

"For the same reason Dorian works against him," Felix replied, matter-of-fact. "I love my father, and I love my country, but this?! Cults, time magic?! What he's doing now is madness. For his own sake, you _have_ to stop him."

"It would also be nice if he didn't rip a hole in time," Dorian added, deadpan. "There's already a hole in the sky."

"Why would he rearrange time, and indenture the mage rebellion, just to get to me?" Trevelyan asked, more than a little confused. Every day seemed to bring it's own level of weirdness to the table.

"They're obsessed with you," Felix stated bluntly. "But I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"You can close the rifts," Dorian observed. "Maybe there's a connection? Or they see you as a threat?"

"Are you feeling special yet, Beautiful?" Varric quipped.

"Utterly flattered," she retorted, causing Bull to snort in amusement. "Do you have any suggestions on how to move forward?"

"You know you're his target," Dorian replied cautiously. "Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't stay in Redcliffe, Alexius doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But when you go after him, I want to be there."

Trevelyan regarded her fellow mage for a moment, before smiling. "Of course," she agreed.

Once again, Dorian took her hand, bowing over it as he kissed her knuckles. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This was the second part of the original third chapter. Chapter title is inspired by the Kylie Minogue song of the same. And whereas I'm not a fan of her, I though the lyrics fit Trevelyan and Dorian.**


	12. One Step Closer

**One Step Closer**

With a sigh, Trevelyan turned her head to the side, and glanced at Leliana and Josephine from where her head was pillowed on her forearms. Both women looked as fed up as she felt. The spy master going so far as to throw her a pained look in solidarity. Cassandra and Cullen had been having the same circular 'debate' for the past hour.

"We don't have the manpower to take the castle," the commander argued. "Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense, and go get the Templars."

The seeker's scowl became even darker. "Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand."

"The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste, by name," Josephine interjected, not bothering to raise her head from where it rested in her hands. "It's an obvious trap."

"Isn't that kind of him," Trevelyan quipped. Earning her a look of surprise from Cullen, a disgruntled glare from Cassandra, a raised eyebrow from Josephine and a rueful smile from Leliana. "What does Alexius say about me?"

"He is so complimentary, that we are certain he wants to kill you," Leliana stated, matter-of-fact.

"Not this again," Josephine sighed, beginning to massage her temples.

"Redcliffe castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in all of Ferelden," Cullen stated, looking at Trevelyan intently. "It has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go in there, you'll die."

The intensity in his gaze was almost breath taking. Suddenly, he broke their eye contact. His falling to stare at the map, leaving Trevelyan to stare at him in surprise.

"And we would lose the only means of closing these rifts," he said in a sigh.

For a moment, the commander's words irked Trevelyan sorely. Her first instinct was to rile against the he was referring to her as a commodity, a tool. Though slowly his weary tone seemed to register, and then the commander's words seemed more of a cover up, than anything else.

"I won't allow it," Cullen added, risking glancing up at her again.

"And if we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mage's," Leliana pointed out, giving Trevelyan a knowing look. "And leave a hostile, foreign power on our doorstep."

Josephine shook her head, leaning back in her chair. "Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for nought. An Orlesian Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied."

Cassandra pushed back her chair, standing up indignantly. "The magister..."

"Has out played us," Cullen finished, wearily.

"We can't just give up," Trevelyan countered. "There has to be something we can do."

At that moment, the door suddenly swung open. In strutted Dorian, looking just as debonair as he had done in Redcliffe. Trevelyan found herself biting the inside of her cheek to stop from snorting in amusement. She may have only met the Tevinter mage once, but Trevelyan was far from surprised at his dramatic entrance. Flamboyance rather suited him.

"Of course there is, my dear," Dorian grinned, bowing to her.

"This man says he has information about the magister, and his method's, commander," a soldier hurriedly informed.

Though Cullen ignored him. Instead choosing to stare dumbfounded, as Dorian placed a kiss on each of Trevelyan's cheeks, once she had walked around the war table to greet him.

"Your spies will never get past Alexius without my help," Dorian stated, once he noticed Cullen's frosty look. "So if you're going after him, I'm coming along."

Cullen's brow furrowed, but as his gaze shifted from Dorian to Trevelyan, his demeanour noticeably softened. "This puts you in the most danger. I... we can't, in good conscious, order you to meet with him. We can still go after the Templar's, if you'd rather not play the bait." There was something pleading in the way he regarded her, almost as if he was begging her not to go.

Shaking her head, Trevelyan gave him a small smile. Unsure if his reluctance was born out of concern for her, or distrust of mages. "No. Alexius must be stop. Dorian, what's your plan?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This was originally the third part of the third chapter. Chapter title &amp; slight inspiration of theme is from the Linkin Park song of the same name.**


	13. As the World Falls Down

**As the World Falls Down**

_'Maker's balls! Why didn't I listen to Cullen?'_ she wondered, trying not to gag at the rancid smell emanating from the stagnant water that reached her calves. Trevelyan was already feeling nauseous after, rather suddenly, emerging from what seemed to be a time rift. And two soldiers, presumably Venatori, already lay dead. Their corpses lying face down in the murky liquid.

"Interesting..."Dorian said at length, peering around the gloomy room they found themselves in. "It's probably not what Alexius intended, but the rift must of moved us... to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?" He crouched down, and began rummaging in one of the dead soldier's pockets.

"Last thing I remember, we were in the castle hall," Trevelyan stated, suddenly very aware that neither Varric or Solas was with them. _'Where are they?'_ she worried.

"Let's see... If we are still in the castle, it isn't..." Dorian stated, utterly confusing her. "Oh... of course! It's not simply where, but when." It was a little unnerving how gleeful Dorian seemed. "Alexius must have used that amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!"

"Did we go forward in time? Or back?" she questioned, desperately trying to keep her cool. "And how far?"

She watched as Dorian unlocked the barred door, presumably using a key pilfered from the dead soldiers. Gratefully, Trevelyan took his hand as he helped her up the short, but very slimy, set of stone steps. He patted her hand as they took in their surroundings.

"Those are excellent questions. We will have to find out, wont we?" Dorian replied, giving her a slight smile. "Let's look around, see where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back."

"It just seems so insane," Trevelyan mused.

Her lips curled in disgust, as they trudged through the sludge filled rooms. It was quite obvious they had emerged in the castle dungeons. The smell of decay, rotting bodily fluids, and malodorous water only added to the depressing atmosphere. It was quite a feat that neither of them were gagging on the smell.

"I don't even want to think of what this will do to the fabric of the world," Dorian shuddered. "We didn't travel through time, so much as punch a hole through it and toss it into the privy. But don't worry, I'm here. I'll protect you."

Trevelyan gave a slight huff of laughter, she couldn't think of any time when someone had offered to protect her. Perhaps her father when she had been little, scared of a bad dream. And the situation they were in, was certainly a nightmare.

"Who needs a white knight when I have you as my hero," she quipped, forcing the humour through her panic.

For a time, they wandered through the dungeon in silence. Occasionally they summoned werelights when the eerie red light, that seemed to permeate every room, did not give enough illumination to guide their cautious footsteps. Though, before long, worry began to hammer at Trevelyan's chest again.

"There were others in the hall, could they have been pulled through the rift?" she asked. All the time, she was silently praying to a Marker she didn't believe in. _'Please let Solas and Varric be alright, Felix too.'_

"I doubt the rift was big enough to bring the whole room through" Dorian speculated. "Alexius wouldn't risk catching himself or Felix in it. They are probably still where, and when, we left them. In some sense, anyway."

"So it's just us that are so lucky?" Trevelyan managed to joke.

She was hard pressed, to try not to think about the dark stains that littered the stairs they had just climbed. And swallowing thickly, Trevelyan glanced around the room. They were in a smaller version of the cell block they had not long left. Though it was brighter lit, with a greater concentration of the disturbing red lyrium shards casting their evil red glow. A slight shuffling sound from a nearby cell caught her attention, and warily, Trevelyan moved towards the noise. What she found made her blood run cold. Varric sat, battered and bedraggled, with his head hung in defeat. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in shock.

"Andraste's sacred knickers!" he cursed. "You're alive!" With some effort, Varric pushed himself to his feet. "Where were you? How did you escape?" Nearing the cell door, he clutched her hand through the bars, evidently wanting to confirm she was real.

"We didn't escape," Dorian explained, obviously sensing Trevelyan was too choked up to talk. "Alexius sent us into the future." He set about opening the cell door with the scavenged key. The lock yielded, but the key broke in the process.

"Everything that happens to you is weird!" Varric scoffed, a large grin forming on his face. Without ceremony, he pulled Trevelyan into a rough hug, his cheek conveniently resting on her breasts.

Unsure whether she wanted to laugh or cry, Trevelyan hugged him back. "Noticed that, did you?" she said, a tear escaping her tightly shut eyes. "Don't get me wrong, you're still handsome, but you don't look so good Varric. What happened?"

"Bite your tongue, Beautiful. I look damn good for a dead man." Varric stood back appraising her, though didn't completely relinquish his hold.

"You're no more dead than we are," Dorian stated.

"The not dying version of this red lyrium stuff... way worse, just saying," Varric replied, shrugging.

His words made Trevelyan take a closer look at her friend. Gently she cupped his face, tilting it upwards. There was a strange, red cast to his eyes that she hadn't noticed before, and he felt incredibly warm. Varric squeezed her wrists in a silent gesture of reassurance, before moving towards a battered storage crate. The dimness of the corner it stood in, allowed Trevelyan to see the faint red aura that surrounded the dwarf. And as Varric returned, brandishing a rather neglected Bianca, Trevelyan couldn't help but notice the limp he was trying to hide.

Dorian gave her a worried look, laying a hand on her shoulder. "If we get to Alexius, I just might be able to send us back to our own time."

"That... may not be as easy as you think," Varric interjected. "You see, Alexius is just a servant. His 'Elder One' assassinated the Empress, and led a demon army on a huge invasion of the south. The Elder One rules everything, what's left of it anyway. Alexius is really not the one you need to worry about."

Trevelyan's brow furrowed as she regarded the dwarf. "I promise you, Varric, we'll make sure none of this happens." This time it was her that pulled him into a hug.

"I'm pretty sure you're crazy, or I'm crazy," he chuckled, returning her embrace.

"What happened to the others?" she asked cautiously, once she released him. She almost dreaded the answer.

A dark look crossed over Varric's face, and his eyes cast themselves downwards. "Don't... dwell on it, Beautiful," he sighed. "At any rate, if you want to take on Alexius, I'm in. Let's go."

Mutely, she accepted his words without protest. Diligently trying not to think about the countless cells full of red lyrium they had past to get here. Down cast but together, the three of them began to explore the remainder of the cell block. They trekked down another flight of steps, and into another dank room of holding cells, illuminated only by the eerie red glow. Rats scurried, squeaking in alarm, as they past. The look on Dorian's face, a mix of wariness and disgust, mirrored Trevelyan's own feelings. Cautiously, she stepped into the putrid water that had formed a great pool in the centre of the room, her footsteps splashing slightly as she tried to tread carefully.

"Is someone there?" an all too familiar voice called out in the darkness.

Her heart felt like it had skipped a beat. Other than Varric, they had not come across another living soul... bar the rat, let alone someone they knew. The cells had merely been filled with towering shards of the disgusting red lyrium, and Trevelyan kept shuddering at the implications of that.

Within a heartbeat, she and Varric had exchanged a startled look, before both set off at a run for the far end of the room. Neither cared about the fetid water any longer. Trevelyan's heart sank as she reached the cell. Clad in tattered clothing, thin and gaunt, with an even more pronounced red aura than Varric, was Solas. Tears welled in Trevelyan's eyes as she regarded her friend, finding herself gripping the bars that separated them. Solas, for his part starred at her in disbelief.

"Varric? Can you get this door open?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dorian would later testify as to how distraught Trevelyan had been when they had first found the dwarf, but Solas looked so much worse. It further cracked her already splintered resolve. Without a word, Varric set about picking the lock, and Solas began to slowly walk towards the bars of his cell, almost as if he was in a trance. As the elf drew near, Trevelyan choked back a sob. His eyes were positively glowing red. And his hand was startlingly warm, as it tentatively curled around her own, that still clutched at the bars.

"You're alive?" Solas whispered, sounding awed. "We saw you die!"

"The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time," Dorian explained, urging Trevelyan to step back as Varric managed to open the rusty lock. "We just got here, so to speak."

"Can you reverse the process?" Solas asked, slowly emerging from his cell. He moved as if he was in a great amount of pain. "You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late..."

"I'm glad you understood that, because I sure didn't," Varric said, his trademark wit shining through their dire situation.

"You would think that such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong," Solas lamented, before wincing in obvious pain.

Gently holding his bicep, Trevelyan used her other hand to turn Solas' face towards her. "You look... bad," she stated, feeling it pointless to sugar coat it. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Both knew she was a prolific healer, but Trevelyan doubted her magic would really do much good.

"I am dying, but no matter," Solas replied, much to her distress. "If you can undo this, they can all be saved." He stated, gesturing towards the other cells. "But you know nothing of this world."

_'This cannot be happening' _Trevelyan fretted, and unable to help herself, she slid her arms around Solas' body. He was so much thinner than from her time, and she could feel his ribs as she gently help him. Clenching her eyes shut to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, Trevelyan unleashed a powerful healing spell, hoping that it would at least ease the pain her friend was in.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, choking back another sob.

After a moment's hesitation, Solas returned her embrace and held her in shaky arms. "Hush, falon," he soothed, giving her a gentle squeeze before releasing his hold. "Alexius serves a master, the Elder One. He reigns now, unchallenged," Solas explained, calm as ever. "His minions assassinated Empress Celene, and used the chaos to invade the south. This Elder One commands an army of demons. After you stop Alexius, you must be prepared," he continued, confirming everything that Varric had already told them.

Finally beginning to overcome her shock and regain her composure, Trevelyan gave Solas a weak smile. "You're just full of good news, aren't you?" she stated, before turning to Dorian and Varric. "We need to figure a way out of these cells." Both men nodded in agreement before setting off to scout ahead. Once they were alone, Trevelyan regarded Solas intently. "I can't do this without you."

The barest hint of a smile formed on his lips. "If there is any hope... any way to save them... my life is yours." Whilst he spoke, his hand gently brushed against Trevelyan's as he walked passed her. "This world is an abomination. It must never come to pass."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Why yes. I was listening to David Bowie on repeat as I edited this chapter, and the chapter title is inspired by the Bowie song of the same name, from the film Labyrinth. This was originally the forth part of the third chapter, and continues some of the undercurrent theme.**


	14. White Knuckles

**White Knuckles**

An earth shuddering roar ripped through the castle, shaking loose many of the stone blocks that made up the support columns for the vaulted roof. Dust fell from the rafters, coating them all in fine grey particles. A second tremor rippled through the building, and Varric's hand shot out to steady Trevelyan, as she lost her balance. Once she had her feet firmly planted on the flagstone floor again, Trevelyan found the withered visage of Leliana starred at her intently.

"The Elder One," the spy master announced.

Leliana's discoloured eyes shone with defiance. Her anger didn't surprise Trevelyan, given how the spy master had been tortured during the past year. What was inspiring was Leliana's resilience. Trevelyan always knew her fellow red head was one tough cookie, however her fire and ruthlessness had been honed to a single target. It was terrifying to see, even when it wasn't directed at her.

"You cannot stay here," Solas declared, looking at Trevelyan mournfully.

Silently, he and Varric traded looks, before nodding to each other and Trevelyan's heart sunk. She knew... simply knew ,what they were about to suggest. What they were about to do. Despite the bile rising in her throat, Trevelyan knew there was nothing in her power to stop them. If she wanted to make this right, to make sure this future never came to pass, she had to leave them now, to return to the present. It sickened her to the core.

"Please..." Trevelyan began, though her voice came out as a thin whisper.

"We'll hold the outer door," Solas stated, giving Leliana a pointed look. "When they get past us, it will be your turn."

"I can't let you kill yourselves for me," Trevelyan argued, tears threatening to fall as she regarded the three of them. "There must be another way."

"Look at us," Leliana commanded. "We are already dead. The only way we'll live, is if this day never comes."

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Trevelyan nodded mutely, unable to think of anything to say. She knew her the spy master was right, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Before turning to leave, Varric squeezed her hand. "I'll see you on the other side," he smiled.

With a look of determination, the dwarf hefted Bianca and slid a bolt in place, striding purposefully towards the door that barred the demons' entrance. Unexpectedly, Solas moved to cup Trevelyan's face. His stormy eyes bore into her intently, and for one absurd moment, she wondered if he was about to kiss her. Instead, his thumb gently traced over her lower lip.

"Dareth, emma lath," he murmured. With that, Solas turned on his heel and strode to join Varric.

"Go. Cast your spell," Leliana ordered. "You have as much time, as I have arrows."

The spy master unslung her bow, notching an arrow and taking aim at the door that had just ominously closed behind Varric and Solas. Dorian then began to cast the enchantment. And the crackle of lightening and the succinct, rapid clicking of crossbow bolts mingled with unearthly growls and blood chilling howls beyond the door. Trevelyan looked over at Leliana, who in turn glanced over her shoulder. The spy master gave a final nod as the doors burst back open. A terror demon lurched forward, dropping Varric's lifeless body in a crumpled heap as it moved. Beyond the doors, Trevelyan could see Solas' mangled form, dead eyes staring back at her. Bile rose in her throat, as the death grip Trevelyan had on her staff, turned her knuckles white.

"Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame," Leliana began to recite, unleashing an arrow straight through the terror demon's throat. "Andraste, guide me. Maker, take me to your side." In rapid succession, demons and Venatori soldiers fell to her arrows. However, an enemy arrow pierced the spy masters shoulder, causing her to stumble backwards.

Unable to watch any longer, Trevelyan moved to help her, only to be stopped by Dorian firmly grabbing her wrist. "If you move, we all die!" he called over the crackle of the powerful magic that surrounded them.

She glanced back to Leliana, who was fending off her attackers, using her bow as Trevelyan would her staff. Despite the bard's fearlessness, the enemies were too numerous. Tears fell freely as she watched Leliana die. A second terror demon ripping cleanly through the spy master's chain mail and gauging her stomach, as a Venatori soldier slit her throat. Dorian's arm slid around Trevelyan's shoulders as the spell engulfed them.

Within a blink of an eye, they were back in Redcliffe castle's main hall, back in their own time. Fuelled with anger and grief from what they had witnessed, Trevelyan rounded on Alexius, who stood mere feet away. And with strength she didn't know she possessed, Trevelyan punched the magister square in the jaw. Though it was probably surprise, more than force, that knocked him to his knees.

"You'll have to do better than that!" Dorian drawled, swaggering to her side.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Felix and his pleading expression. Giving the young Tevinter a barely perceivable nod, Trevelyan turned her attention back to his father. "Put aside all claim to Redcliffe, and I'll let you live," she stated through gritted teeth, looming over him as she spoke.

"You won," Alexius admitted with a defeated sigh. "There's no point in extending this... charade." His gaze sought out his son. "Felix..."

Moving to crouch down, the young man lay a hand on Alexius' shoulder. "It's going to be alright father," he assured, giving a tight lipped smile.

"But you'll die," the magister lamented, tears very evident in usually cold eyes.

"Everyone dies," Felix consoled, squeezing his father's shoulder before standing. He turned to Trevelyan, extending his hand to her. "Thank you for sparing him, my lady."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Originally the fifth part of the third chapter. And ****apart from telling some vital parts of the story, this chapter is also slightly setting up things to come in later chapters. You will see them as time goes on. Elven translation: 'Dareth, emma lath' means 'Be safe, my love'. Chapter title inspired by the Five Finger Death Punch song of the same name, that really made me think of Leliana's hatred during this part of the game when I heard it.**


	15. Heroes

**Heroes**

"It's not open to debate. There will be abominations among the mages, and we must be vigilant." Cullen's angry voice drifted through the heavy doors of the chantry.

With a sigh, Trevelyan leant her head against the sturdy oak, her breath billowing in the frigid air. As she shifted her feet, the dense snow crunched beneath her supple leather boots, and she took another deep breath. Trevelyan knew there would be repercussions after inviting the rebel mages to be equal members of the Inquisition. King Alistair and Queen Anora had warned her as much, before she had departed Redcliffe, after all. Trevelyan had just hoped the trouble would have held off until she had at least managed to change out of her bloodstained armour. Though fate had obviously decided differently, again. A hand gently lay on her shoulder, and raising her head, Trevelyan gave a weak smile to Enchanter Fiona.

"Go check that your mage's are alright," she told the other woman.

They both knew what she was really saying: 'Go check they aren't being harassed by Templars'. With a thankful smile, Fiona departed. Leaving Trevelyan to square her shoulders and push open the chantry doors. Her eyes watering as the warm air from the stone building buffeted against her child face.

"If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst," Josephine argued.

"What were you thinking?!" Cullen demanded, glowering at Trevelyan as she approached. "Turning mage's loose with no oversight. The veil is already torn open."

Gritting her teeth, Trevelyan glared daggers at the commander. "Yes, I forgot, all us mage's are abominations just waiting to happen!" she spat with enough venom to make him recoil. "The actions of a few mean none of us can be trusted. So, ever righteous Ser Templar, why not have them all made tranquil? Just to be on the safe side. You can condemn myself, Vivienne, Dorian and Solas to the same fate as well while you are at it. That should help you and your men sleep well at night. Oh, and how about the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall? They are mages too! Best round they up as well..."

The commander, Josephine and Cassandra stared at her, all open mouthed, though none made to speak against her.

Trevelyan was so angry, flames had begun to surround her fingertips. "We are not monsters! We can control ourselves without any outside help." Just to prove her point, she directed the gathering flames at a collection of candles, neatly lighting the wicks before subduing her magic. "They deserve their freedom," she all but snarled.

"This is not an issue of self control," Cullen argued, a pained look on his face. "Even the strongest of mages can be overcome by demons in conditions like these."

"As can Templars," Cassandra interjected, much to everyone's surprise. "And enough arguing." She looked pointedly at the commander as she said this. "None of us were there. We cannot afford to second guess our people. The sole point of the Herald's mission, was to gain the mage's aid. That was accomplished."

"The voice of pragmatism speaks," Dorian suddenly drawled.

His appearance instantly made Trevelyan feel better. Calmer. He presence was like a balm. The way he swaggered into the chantry didn't fail to make her smile either. And she noticed that Josephine was giving the flamboyant mage her own, very appreciative stare.

"And here I was beginning to enjoy the circular arguments," Dorian continued, settling himself to lean against a nearby pillar.

"Closing the breach is all that matters," Cassandra stated, sounding almost as weary as Trevelyan felt.

"The longer the breach is open, the more damage it does," she agreed, nodding a polite hello as Leliana joined them. "We should head there as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Josephine nodded.

"We should look into the things you saw in this dark future," Leliana suggested. "The assassination of Empress Celene... a demon army?"

"Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do," Dorian quipped. "Orlais falls, the Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone."

"One battle at a time," Cullen stated reluctantly, his eyes still locked on Trevelyan. "It's going to take time to organise our troops... and the mage recruits. Let's take this to the war room. You should join us, after all, none of this means anything without your mark."

Trevelyan's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was unsure whether he was asking out of respect or simply trying to put her in her place. To remind her she was only there _because_ of her mark. Either way, Trevelyan felt as if he had punched her in the gut.

"Thank you. I'd be honoured to help with the plan," she said, sickly sweet.

Her tone was so gracious, and her face had become such a neutral mask, that Josephine and Leliana were looking at Trevelyan with admiration. She was a nobles daughter after all, she knew how to play the game, no matter how much it disgusted her. In contrast, the commander and Cassandra regarded her with concern. Dorian merely snorted in amusement.

"That's my girl," he grinned, causing Cullen's expression to darken.

"Join us, when you are ready," Josephine invited, obviously trying not to smile.

"If you don't mind, I'll skip the war council, though I would like to see this breach up close," Dorian informed, pushing himself off the pillar.

"Then you're... staying?" Trevelyan asked. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth, as she tried to dampen down the feeling of pure elation that bubbled up inside of her.

"Oh? Didn't I mention? The south is so charming and rustic... I adore it to little pieces," he drawled, offering her his arm.

"I'll be back shortly," she explained to the others, gesturing to her blood soaked armour, before linking her arm through Dorian's. "There's no one I'd rather be stranded in time with," she teased. "Future or present." Out of the corner of her eye, Trevelyan noticed Cullen's jaw tighten as he turned towards the war room.

"Excellent choice," Dorian grinned, raising an eyebrow. Obviously he had caught the commander's glare as well. "But lets not get stranded again anytime soon, yes?"

"I'll begin preparations to march on the summit," the commander declared, but his toned seemed to have lost some of it's earlier fire. "Maker willing, the mage's will be enough to grant us victory."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was the final section of the original third chapter, and since it was nearly 8000 words, it made five new chapters in the edit/reformat! Chapter title inspired by the David Bowie song of the same name.**


	16. Dancing in the Moonlight

***A/N: This fic is going through a major overhaul atm. Please see the intro (chapter one) for an explanation. I promise, after the overhaul is done, I _do_ have a brand new chapter to post!**

* * *

**Dancing in the Moonlight**

It had been one heck of a party, and deservedly so. The breach was now closed, which bought them time to celebrate. Trevelyan had spent the night surrounded by comrades that were quickly becoming close friends. She had danced with Dorian, Varric and Sera, with varying degrees of finesse, and managed to urge Nadia to dance with Krem. She had sung a duet with Leliana, and debated the finer points of Orlesian fashion with Vivienne and Josephine. She had downed drinks with Blackwall, Cassandra and Fiona, as well as been hoisted onto Bull's shoulder, with the Charger's calling drunken praises. However, Trevelyan was currently walking up behind Solas, having found him standing alone, simply regarding the celebration from a distance.

"Not one for parties?" she asked. Though she had hardly been sneaking up on him, the sudden rigid straightening of his posture gave Trevelyan the impression she had startled the elf.

"Falon," Solas greeted, giving her a slight smile. "You should be enjoying the celebration."

"As should you," Trevelyan retorted, moving to lean against the stone wall he stood by. "Something on your mind?"

Solas hesitated for a moment, regarding her intently. "You are certain you experienced time travel? Could it have been an illusion, a trick of the Fade?"

Raising an eyebrow, she returned his gaze unabashed. "I've been to the Fade before. I'd know it."

"Point taken," he conceded, almost in amusement. "What an amazing gift. It is vital the Inquisition succeed, to avoid the future you witnessed."

The memories of what Trevelyan saw, flashed in her mind. Tears threaten, and turning her head to hide her sorrow, she looked out over the celebration.

"I have upset you," Solas observed. "Forgive me."

Shaking her head, Trevelyan managed a watery smile. "Just... not something that is easy to remember," she said at length, before pushing herself off the wall. "Anyway, we are supposed to be celebrating. Dance with me?"

Obviously taken by surprise by her request, Solas simply stood looking utterly dumbfounded. His gaze shifted from Trevelyan, to the raucous crowd that were dancing and cheering below, before his eyes snapped back to her. The usually stoic elf looked terrified.

"I..." he began.

"Don't like crowds?" Trevelyan teased, already determined not to take no for an answer.

Taking everything away that she had seen in the future, in the here and now, Trevelyan believed the elf really needed to relax a little. Even if it was only occasionally. Besides, she remembered the first real conversation they had, when Solas said he would stay until the breach was closed. It was something that had played on Trevelyan's mind throughout the celebration. And the worry that he would leave, was what had originally drove her to seek the elf out. Solas' small answering smile to her question, told Trevelyan she had been right on the money. Stepping forward, she placed her marked hand gently on his shoulder.

"Dance with me here then," she offered, as her other hand moved to take hold of his.

For a moment, Trevelyan though he would outright refuse. Though it was her turn to be surprised when Solas smiled again, and inclining his head in a slight nod, answered: "My lady." His free arm slipped deftly around her waist, and pulled her closer.

Their dance was not as stylish as the one she had shared with Dorian, nor as energetic as the ones she had danced with both Varric and Sera. In truth, their dance didn't even move in time to the lively jig being played by the minstrels. In an almost formal hold, they swayed together in a slow circle. With a fresh billow of snowfall swirling around them, and the twinkling stars in the darkened night sky shining above them, it was almost magical. As the full moon shone overhead, illuminating Solas' face, Trevelyan couldn't help but smile warmly at him. A wave of pure joy washed over her, as she was incredibly happy to be indulging in this simple moment with her, often stoic, friend.

Without warning, a polite yet slightly disgruntled sounding cough sounded off to the side, and both their heads snapped in that direction. Cullen stood slightly in shadow, looking a little uncomfortable but quite determined. "Lady Trevelyan, I was hoping to have a word."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This chapter was originally the first part of chapter four. The chapter title &amp; slight inspiration is from the Toploader song of the same name.**


	17. For Whom the Bell Tolls

**For Whom the Bell Tolls**

At the sight of the commander, Trevelyan's posture quickly stiffened. And the mask of propriety that she had worn throughout the last war council, fell rapidly into place. The anger that had dimmed to a roiling simmer, began to bubble towards boiling again. On it's own accord, her hand that rested on Solas' shoulder, began to bunch the fabric of his tunic, as it tried to ball itself into a fist

"Of course, commander," Trevelyan replied icily.

However, she spared Solas a small apologetic smile, before lightly kissing him on the cheek. The look of pleasant surprise on the elf's face, managed to lift Trevelyan's mood, if only slightly. Reluctantly, she stepped away from her friend, secretly hoping the dance would not be the last moment they would enjoy each other's company. The she steeled herself, and strode purposefully passed the commander and towards the chantry. Moments later, Cullen was walking beside her.

"You had something you wish to discuss?" Trevelyan asked, coming to an abrupt halt outside the chantry doors.

A myriad of emotions seemed to cross the commander's brown eyes. As he stood, almost at attention, in front of her. "I... would like to apologise," he stated formally. "For any offence I caused earlier."

Unable to help it, Trevelyan snorted in disbelief. "So because we, myself and the mages, managed to seal the breach, we are _now _worthy of respect? Allowed to be fully functioning, living, breathing, feeling _free_ people?" she practically snarled.

It was obvious Cullen was not expecting Trevelyan's reaction, for he starred at her in shock. Even recoiling slightly from her viscous tone.

"Don't worry yourself, Ser Templar. This poor, dangerous mage is not offended by you high and mighty views. She's far too used to them to give a damn!" Trevelyan snapped.

In anger, she turned on her heel intent to depart. And as far as Trevelyan was concerned, she couldn't get away quick enough. No one had to know she was going to hide under her eiderdown, trying not to cry that the commander had turned out to be just like every ass-hole Templar she had ever met. Nor did anyone have to know that fact really, _really _hurt. Trevelyan didn't even intend to admit to herself, just how much it hurt. However, Cullen caught her forearm, halting her escape. His grip was firm but not aggressive, and as she whipped round to face him, Trevelyan could clearly see the deep blush that was creeping up his neck.

"Evelyn, please..." he began.

Vaguely, Trevelyan realised that was the first time the commander had ever used her first name. Though she had little time to ponder it, nor chance to hear what he had to say, for the alarm bell started to ring. It's shrill tone drowned out the celebration, and tolled over the frigid landscape. In alarm, Trevelyan and Cullen regarded each other, before quickly running towards the village gates. One of the commander's soldiers met them, though she missed what was said, for Cassandra almost barrelled into her.

"Forces approaching. To arms," the commander bellowed above the sounds of general confusion and panic.

"Cullen?" Cassandra questioned, sounding slightly alarmed.

Trevelyan's stomach dropped to her boots. She had learnt quite a while ago, that if the seeker was concerned, it was something to _really_ worry about. The fact the warning was tolling over what had been a celebration, only added to the feeling of foreboding that was gripping her.

"One watch guard reported that it's a massive force. The bulk are over the mountain," Cullen informed.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked, panting slightly out of breathe as she joined them.

"None," the commander replied, his voice hardening.

_S__omething_ began to thump against the village gates, as a red glow emanated though the slits and cracks of the wood. Trevelyan felt a tug at her arm, and glancing to her right, she found Nadia holding her armoured overcoat, fingerless gloves and staff. Smiling gratefully, she pulled on the garments before gripping her staff tightly.

"Get yourself to the chantry," she ordered, knowing it would be the safest place of refuge for the elf.

With a silent nod, Nadia hurried to comply, yet stopped every so often to usher other villages along with her. The thumping at the gate morphed to a frantic knocking, and the red glow seemed to suddenly recede.

"I can't enter unless you open," a worried voice called.

A heavy hand gripped Trevelyan's shoulder, and glancing behind, she was met with Cullen's warm brown eyes regarding her with a clear question. Quiet surprised, given there conversation just minutes before, Trevelyan gave him a hint of a smile as she nodded her agreement.

"Open the gates!" the commander shouted to the guards.

Together, Trevelyan and Cullen ran out as soon as the gap was wide enough to do so. They were greeted by a blood bath. Dozens of the encroaching soldiers lay dead, sticky pools of blood staining the once pristine snow. A young man, perhaps sixteen or seventeen summers old, stood in the midst of all the carnage. He was clad in a heavily patched tunic, brown leather trousers and similar boots. An extremely wide brimmed hat hid most of his features from view, though straggly blonde locks that reached his collar bone were clearly visible. He held two, blood stained daggers, one in each hand.

"I am Cole," he announced. The boy rushed towards them, sheathing his daggers as he did. "I came to warn you, to help," he explained, grabbing hold of Trevelyan's free hand, almost as if he was begging for her to believe him. "People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know..."

"What's going on?" she demanded, slightly more forcefully than she intended.

Cole looked up at her from beneath his hat. Pale blue eyes that were almost white, regarded her with an eerie calmness. "Templars come to kill you."

"Templars?!" Cullen strode towards Cole, making the young man practically jump away from Trevelyan like he had been scolded. "Is this the order's response with our talks with the mages?" Though he held it in check, the commander's voice shook with anger as he positioned himself between Cole and Trevelyan. "Attacking blindly?"

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One," Cole stated, glancing around Cullen's larger frame to look at Trevelyan. "You know him. He knows you. You took his mages." He stepped away from them, raising an arm and pointing towards a nearby hilltop. "There."

Despite what her common sense was telling her to do, Trevelyan followed Cole's line of sight. Upon the summit was the singular, most grotesque being she had ever seen. A twisted and contorted mockery of a human. The moonlight, that had been so pleasant before, took on a sinister edge as it illuminated yellow tinged skin, that stretched over a misshaped body. The creature was the thing of nightmares. Beside the... thing, stood a gaunt looking human man, brandishing a needle-point sword.

The commander's posture instantly turned rigid. Concerned for him, Trevelyan placed a hand on the small of his back, though she doubted he could feel it through his armour. Glancing up at his face, Trevelyan could see the tightness of his jaw and the warring emotions on his face. Shock, anger, and even a hint of sadness.

"Cullen?" she questioned, her voice soft and full of evident worry.

"I knew that man," he replied, his voice was toneless and his eyes never left the hilltop.

"He's very angry you took his mages," Cole stated, grabbing Trevelyan's arm and making Cullen give her a concerned glance.

"Cullen, give me a plan. Anything," she grit out through clenched teeth, as they began to slowly walk backwards, towards the village's gates.

"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle," he advised. "Get out there and hit that force with everything you can."

The commander drew his sword then, before giving Trevelyan an unreadable look. Her brow furrowed in response. There was a weight to the look, that she didn't understand. It added confusion to Trevelyan's feeling of worry and uncertainty.

"Mages!" Cullen shouted, turning to face the village battlements. "You have sanction to engage. That is Samson, he will not make it easy. Inquisition! With the Herald."

He raised his sword aloft then, which elicited a defending war cry from the soldiers in response. Despite the feelings of anger that Trevelyan still harboured for the commander, her throat unexpectedly caught in her throat as she watched him. It was reminiscent of the first time she had lain eyes on him.

As Cullen lowered his sword, he stepped towards Trevelyan, and leant in to speak into her ear. "Please. Be careful out there."

Trevelyan was so taken a back, she merely blinked at him for a moment. Until Varric, Solas and Bull came crashing through the gates. They were closely followed by Cassandra, Blackwall, Dorian and Sera. It came as no surprise that Vivienne had opted to stay with the rest of the mage forces, the Imperial Enchanter had already voiced her distrust and dislike of Fiona. Upon seeing her comrades, Trevelyan's battle-persona took over.

"Don't get yourself killed," she grinned wickedly at Cullen. "I'm not done with you yet."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**I wanted to make more of the difference of opinions Cullen &amp; (mage) Trevelyan would have, so this is what happened. ****Chapter title &amp; theme inspired by the Metallic song of the same name. This was originally the second part of the fourth chapter. As with all previous chapters, minor editing &amp; rewrite has been done.**


	18. Enter Sandman

**Enter Sandman**

"A dragon?!" Trevelyan yelled in disbelief, between heavy pants of breath.

"A fucking dragon!" Bull roared in return, seeming wholly too pleased with the notion.

"You're a brute," Dorian complained as he caught up to them.

"Less yapping, more running," Sera shouted, as she sprinting ahead.

"Move it!" Cullen's voice shouted over the chaos as he helped soldiers back through the village gates. "Move it!"

Stumbling at the last possible moment before reaching the village, Trevelyan felt her fall being caught, as a large hand curled around her forearm. She looked up gratefully into Cullen's eyes. Without preamble, he helped her through the gates, that banged shut behind them.

"Everyone back to the chantry," Cullen commanded. His voice somehow carried over the dragon's roar. "It's the only building that might hold against that... beast," he added in a lower tone, meant only for her.

Side by side, they raced for the chantry, collecting any straggling villagers along the way. Trevelyan's regard for Cullen began to reinstate itself, as she watched him scoop up a frightened child, and carry the girl the rest of the way to relative safety. Beside the chantry doors, Chancellor Roderick was ushering people inside. However, there was something wrong. He was bent over slightly, a pale cast had taken over his usually ruddy face, and Cole was at his side, seemingly propping him up. Gently, Cullen set the scared child on the ground, and gave a smile of thanks to Flissa who had limped over to take charge of the girl. Despite her dislike for the man, Trevelyan and Cole help the chancellor back into the chantry, as two Inquisition soldiers sealed the doors behind them.

"He tried to stop a Templar," Cole explained. "The blade went deep, he's going to die."

Whilst they were trying to settle the chancellor into a comfortable position, Cullen approached, having been in deep conversation with several of his soldiers. "Herald, our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us," he informed.

"I've seen an archdemon," Cole said suddenly, still crouched by the chancellor's side. "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

"I don't care what it looks like," the commander grit out. "It's cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven."

Cole looked up then, his icy eyes locking onto Trevelyan's. "He doesn't care about the village. He only wants you."

"If it will save these people, he can have me," she answered, without a hint of hesitation. At that announcement, the chancellor looked actually awed, and she felt Cullen grasp her shoulder.

"Trevi...?" Varric called out, his tone almost an admonishment, as he and Solas came to join them.

"It wont," Cole lamented. "He wants you dead, no one else matters. But he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't like..." Cullen began to rage, only to be cut short by both Trevelyan and Varric's snorts of laughter.

It earned her a confused glare, but she couldn't help it. The whole situation was already crazy, Cole's last statement was merely the icing on the proverbial cake. Taking her arm, the commander pulled her to the side, out of ear shot, but she noticed Solas still kept a watchful eye on them.

"Commander?" she questioned.

"Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable," he confessed.

Though his posture remained picture perfect, the look in Cullen's brown eyes conveyed how worried he was. It was almost as if he was apologising. As if he thought he could have somehow prevented this. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. His gaze fell from her, as if he were ashamed. Out of sympathy, Trevelyan squeezed his bicep, hoping to provide a little comfort.

"The only thing that slowed them is the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide." Cullen looked up at her then, his eyes so full of emotion it almost left her speechless.

"We are over run," she all but whispered. "To hit them, we'd bury Haven."

His grip on her arm tightened. "We are dying, but we can decide how. Many don't get that choice."

To her right, she vaguely heard Cole mutter something, before he called out: "Chancellor Roderick wants to help. Hurry, he wants to say it before he dies."

As Trevelyan quickly returned to the chancellor's side, kneeling down in front of him, she caught the thoughtful look Solas was giving Cole. Though once the chancellor began to speak, Trevelyan pushed it out of her mind. A question for hopefully another time.

"There is a path. Hidden. You wouldn't know it..." Roderick gasped, in obvious pain. "Unless you've made the summer pilgrimage, as I have. The people _can_ escape."

He leant forward and unexpectedly clasped Trevelyan's hand in his. The chancellor's touch was cold and clammy, and it was obvious he had little time left. Despite the urge to withdraw her hands, Trevelyan returned the gesture.

"She must have shown... Andraste must have shown me... so I could tell you," Roderick continued.

Not wanting to distress the man, and nearly everyone present by... once again, refuting she had been sent by the long dead prophet, Trevelyan merely smiled encouragingly, before glancing up over her shoulder.

"What about it Cullen? Would it work?"

"Possibly, if he can show us the path," the commander answered cautiously. He came to stand beside her, towering above her crouched position. "What of your escape?"

Trevelyan looked away from Cullen, casting her eyes downwards. She avoided his gaze, along with Solas' and Varric's. Squeezing the chancellor's hand in silent thanks, Trevelyan rose to stand, still avoiding eye contact. She felt as if any light of hope had been extinguished, and that only the darkness of never ending night was left. Trevelyan knew she wasn't going to come out of this alive, and she thought that she might lose her nerve, if forced to say goodbyes. As Trevelyan turned to leave, she was surprised to feel a hand curl around her upper arm, halting her stride. Confused, she turned to find Cullen regarding her. A strange mix of sorrow, hope and even a little affection mingling in his expression.

"Perhaps you will surprise it. Find a way..."

His words were so earnest, that Trevelyan found herself leaning up to kiss his cheek, without consciously realising it. She smiled when she noticed the blush that was creeping up his neck. It was still adorable.

"Keep our people safe," she requested, before purposefully turning to leave.

Once again, Trevelyan was halted mid step. Though this time, it wasn't from a grasp holding her back. Leaning against the door, with almost identical crossed arm stances, were Varric, Dorian, the Iron Bull and Solas. All four men where levelling her with equally determined glares.

"Thinking of going somewhere without us, boss?" Bull asked.

Knowing arguing would be futile, Trevelyan smiled gratefully at them, shaking her head. She would never have asked any of the to accompany her on this suicide mission, but she was utterly grateful that they were prepared to stand beside her, regardless. However, Trevelyan felt the need to pull Solas to the side. He looked at her questioningly, though readily acquiesced as she pulled him away from the others.

"I need you to stay with them," she said, nodding towards where Cassandra and Leliana were organising the casualties. "Please," she implored when he went to object. "If I don't make it, they are going to need your help, your knowledge, to get the Inquisition through what is to come."

To say Solas did not look impressed, was an understatement. However, after regarding her intently for several heartbeats, the elf eventually nodded. "As you wish," he agreed. His tone was oddly devoid of emotion, which was completely contrasting with the burning look in his stormy eyes. Unexpectedly, Solas cupped her face. "Dareth, falon."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the third section of the four chapter. Chapter title is inspired by the Metallic song of the same name. ****Elven translation: 'Dareth, falon' means 'Be safe, my friend'.**


	19. The Show Must Go On

**The Show Must Go On**

"Wake up."

The voice was a whisper. Distant yet close at hand. Insistent yet comforting.

"Herald. Evelyn."

The voice was so familiar, she knew it. Yet Trevelyan knew it had never said her name before.

"Falon, you must wake up."

_'Solas?' _Everything was dark around her, the air still, the area devoid of life. She tried to glance around, to figure out where she was, but all she could sense was an endless void._ 'Am I in the Fade?'_

"You must wake up!"

This voice was new. Closer, pleading, urgent.

"I know it hurts, but you must wake up."

At the notion of pain, Trevelyan body began to scream in agony. Her chest felt constricted, her head pounded. There was not a part of her that didn't cry out in pain. But there was another sensation, a slight weight on her hand. Warm and soothing. As if someone was holding it.

"I'm sorry. I've taken away as much hurt as I can. But you must wake up. You're too cold. You'll die."

Cold. It was cold, so cold. _She_ was so cold. Trevelyan could feel it now, mingling with the pain. Freezing needles mixing with the sharp stabs. She managed to crack a protesting eye open. Her vision was blurry, but Trevelyan thought she could make out a pale face with icy eyes regarding her.

"Cole?" She tried to say his name, but the sound came out as a hoarse whimper.

Closing her eyes, Trevelyan tried to will away the insistent pounding in her head. It did little to help, and opening her eyes again, she found that she was alone. With her brow furrowing in confusion, Trevelyan gingerly turned to lay on her back, and found herself staring upwards at a cavernous hole. She squinted against the harsh, blue tinged light.

_'It must be morning, but... how?' _Things swam in her fuzzy memory. Cloudy recollections of the previous night. There had been an attack, fire, smoke, and people screaming. There had been a battle, a fight, a dragon. _'Corypheus...'_ Now she remembered.

Oh so carefully, Trevelyan turned back onto her side, almost crying out, as ribs slid against ribs in a manner nature never intended. Miraculously, an overturned supply cache lay nearby. It's contents were scattered among the snow drift, that Trevelyan found herself lying in. With all the energy she could muster, she half crawled, half pulled herself along the gelid ground. There was an intense burning in her chest, and the pain in her legs and lower back was almost unbearable. Trevelyan almost sobbed with relief, when she found a singular health potion that hadn't been smashed in the fall. Greedily, she drank the thick red liquid, before flopping back into the snow, exhausted by the effort. As the potion began to work it's magic, knitting together ribs, realigning broken bones and mending torn muscles, Trevelyan took the chance to examine the gaping hole above her.

_'Did I fall through a forgot mineshaft?'_ she wondered, sighing in relief as her injuries were healed.

Trevelyan still hurt, everywhere. But it was a duller, more manageable pain. Even the pounding in her head had become merely an annoying ache. Carefully, she began to sit up. And cautiously, her fingers traced lightly over her scalp, finding a large lump on the back of her skull.

_'Least I know how I got it' _she winced, remembering how Corypheus had slammed her head against the trebuchet. It was a small miracle he hadn't killed her out right with the blow.

Giving herself time to adjust to merely sitting up right, Trevelyan looked about her surroundings. She was the sole living thing in a large, frozen cavern. Not even moss or deep mushrooms were growing there. Stalagmites and stalactites of pure ice littered the space. The bright sunlight, shining through the hole in the cavern roof, refracted off their glass like surface, casting dancing rainbows around the frigid cavern. It was almost beautiful.

However the cold was _really_ beginning to bother Trevelyan, and somehow managing to stand on shaky legs, she wrapped her tattered overcoat around her. Her first tentative step brought her back to her knees, having tripped over something buried in the snow. Biting pack a pained whimper as her bare fingers began to dig through the white powder, Trevelyan's hands soon closed around the familiar feeling of polished wood. An excited smile pulled at her lips, as she freed her staff from the drift. It now had a long crack running the length of the shaft, and the blade had been snapped off completely, but it was still usable. In the very least, it could serve as a walking aid.

Leaning her weight heavily on her staff, Trevelyan got to her feet before pausing. Using as much of her heavily depleted mana as she dared, she evoked small tendrils of fire that wrapped and swirled around her shivering body. As the small spell ended, it was obvious to Trevelyan that it had done little to ease the deep chill that had settled into her body. However, she was hopeful that it was enough to stop frostbite claiming any fingers or toes. With a great, shuddering breath, Trevelyan squared her shoulders and took a wobbly step forward. She had no idea where she was headed. All Trevelyan knew was that she couldn't remain here, and _somehow_ she had to find the rest of the Inquisition. She needed to find her friends.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Surely I'm not the only one to wonder why, with Solas being able to lucidly walk the Fade, and Cole a spirit that wants to help heal hurt, why neither of them help when you find yourself in the cave after Corypheus' attack. This was originally the last part of the fourth chapter. Chapter title &amp; slightly the them is inspired by the Queen song of the same name.**


	20. Believe

**Believe**

Trevelyan's eyes widened with astonishment. The glimpses and hints Solas hand managed to show her in the Fade, did not do it justice. It was magnificent. A huge stone fortress that seemed to be growing out of the very mountain itself. How many centuries, millennia, had this fortress stood there? How long had it been forgotten in time, lingering only in the memories of the Fade? The place was a marvel. And following the destruction of Haven, along with their gruelling three week exodus through the frigid Frostback Mountains, Trevelyan collapsed to her knees in shear relief and joy.

"Skyhold," Solas announced proudly.

Unable to suppress a grin, she looked up at him to find him leaning against his dragon headed staff, smiling at her almost affectionately. Trevelyan didn't doubt for a moment, that if not for Solas, the Inquisition would never have found this amazing place.

"You... are a wonder," she told him fondly. "It's like a gift from a god."

A dark look flashed in Solas' eyes for a moment. "I thought you did not believe in gods?" His tone was hard to distinguish, and his knuckles were turning white from the exertion of gripping his staff.

Slowly getting to her feet, Trevelyan gave him a confused look, before peering around the rocky outcrop that was shielding them from the wind. Her hair and still tattered overcoat ruffled in the cold blast, but she paid little mind. Trevelyan was simply relieved that the rest of the Inquisition and villagers seemed to be a good half hour away, further down the slope. Due to the fact that she and Solas had elected to leave them behind, to scout ahead. Assured they would not be overheard, Trevelyan turned back her elven companion.

"You know I don't believe in the Maker, and I don't believe I'm the Herald of Andraste," she paused, only continuing when she received a slight nod in answer. "But I believe Andraste was once a real person, before she was made a prophet and changed into a legend. I also fully believe and accept the dwarven paragons, who were all real people. I cannot say about the elven gods, I've had little chance to hear the stories. They could have been real too, once. Until their stories and deeds were twisted and warped by time."

Trevelyan sighed, as she leant against a large snow covered boulder. She wasn't sure why her comment would bother Solas so, it wasn't like him to get upset about religion. The only things her stoic friend ever got impassioned about was the Fade, spirits and Elven culture. That's when it hit her.

"This place is elven," Trevelyan said, inclining her head towards the fortress. It was more a statement, than a question.

"Elvhen," Solas corrected her, coming to lean beside her after a moment's hesitation.

"And you don't believe in the ehl-vehn gods," she sighed, both at her probably mangled pronunciation, and for guessing she had inadvertently insulted her friend. "I'm sorry, Solas. I know there's no mystic hand of a god involved in this. I know it's all down to you, and your impressive Fade walking skills. So, thank you."

She turned to regard the elf beside her, only to be surprised to find a pensive look on Solas' face, as he starred intently towards the fortress. Trevelyan worried her lower lip as she contemplated her next move. At times like these, Solas appeared like a lone wolf, wary of those around him. He always seemed momentarily surprised, when someone touched him, almost as if he was waiting for an attack to follow. Trevelyan doubted anyone else had really noticed, but she had come to recognise the slight tensing Solas did when surprised. She presumed Varric had as well, since the dwarf was the only other person that spent time with Solas of any length.

A smile pulled at her lips when she thought about their last night in Haven. That silly slow dance they had shared, before they were thrown into chaos. After hesitating for only a moment longer, Trevelyan slipped her arm through Solas'. She felt the elf momentarily tense, as she expected him to. He relaxed soon enough, though Trevelyan caught the surprised look he gave her, out the corner of her eye. Smiling almost to herself, she settled slightly into his side, so they could share each other's warmth.

They had never spoken about it, during the past three long weeks, but Trevelyan was certain it had been Solas calling to her in the Fade, that had pulled her from her concussed state after Haven. When she had originally tried to thank him or question it, he hurriedly changed the topic. It confused Trevelyan, but she accepted it. Simply accepting that it was just a part of who Solas was. He had helped her when she had needed it, and now Trevelyan was determined to do the same. She knew she was far from understanding her fellow mage, but Trevelyan was determined to show the solitary elf he wasn't as alone as he thought.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title &amp; slightly the theme are taken/based from the Disturbed song of the same name. This was originally the first part of the fifth chapter.**


	21. Standing in the Way of Control

**Standing in the Way of Control**

Skyhold. The new stronghold of the Inquisition, their new home, had been a hive of activity for the past week. It was a week were Trevelyan had spent a lot of time trying to persuade people to stop thanking her, and to thank Solas instead, but to no avail. Something she felt terrible about, though it seemed not to bother the elf. Case in point was right this moment, as Harritt thanked her for finding them somewhere with 'such a magnificent forge'... again. Trevelyan had glanced at Solas, who she had been walking with, only to find the elf leaning against the wall and actually smirking at her, before he slipped through the door that led to the rotunda. The room he had asked for himself, and she had agreed without hesitation.

Finally escaping the praise and fleeing down the front steps, out of the main hall, Trevelyan took a hearty gulp of the fresh mountain air. The coldness was refreshing, and she felt herself relax. Deciding she would hunt down Cullen and find out where she could best lend herself, Trevelyan set off towards the lower courtyard. Though moments later, as she rounded the corner to cut through the stairwell archway, she checked her steps at the sound of harsh whispers.

"So, have you spoken to her yet?" Varric's distinctive brogue was easy to recognise.

"Maker's breath. I... no." Cullen's rich voice, even lowered to a whisper, would have been recognisable with or without the curse.

"Curly...?" Varric admonished.

"What am I supposed to say?" Cullen snapped. "I kept vigil waiting for you until I saw you staggering in the snow. Then I carried you to the healer and didn't leave your side until the Iron Bull bodily dragged me away, and Cassandra ordered me to rest?"

"Something like that," Varric agreed at length.

Trevelyan swallowed thickly. It was obvious they were discussing her, and no matter how the thought of the commander carrying her, made Trevelyan's stomach flutter with girlish excitement, she felt dreadful for overhearing the conversation. It didn't matter that it was by accident. Slowly she began a silent retreat, debating whether or not she should retrace her steps to the main hall, or cross the courtyard and enter the lower tier from the other set of stairs. However, before she could decide, Cassandra was calling out to her.

"Herald."

"Seeker," Trevelyan replied, deadpan.

A smile almost lifted the corners of Cassandra's mouth, as she gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Evelyn," she corrected, gesturing for Trevelyan to walk with her. "Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven. You are that... creatures rival, because of what you did. And we know it, all of us," Cassandra stated, leading her back up the stairs to the main hall.

The topic was so unexpected that Trevelyan found herself simply following, mute. However, they had only made it half way up the stairs before Leliana met them, holding an ornate sword of all things. _'What in Thedas?' _Trevelyan wondered, eyeing the spy master suspiciously.

"The Inquisition needs a leader," Cassandra continued. "The one that has already been leading it."

At her words, Leliana smiled cryptically and held out the sword. Trevelyan was distinctly aware that the normal hubbub of the courtyards had suddenly ceased. Skyhold seemed unnaturally quiet, and she could well imagine that nearly every pair of eyes were on her. Trevelyan looked at the two women in front her, and couldn't help being impressed. Slightly annoyed, but still impressed. Even if she had wanted to decline, she couldn't, not with all those hopeful faces staring up at her. Steeling herself, Trevelyan looked down at the lower courtyard, to find Cullen regarding her. He gave her the barest hint of a smile and a brief nod, almost as if he was encouraging her to accept.

"Well played," she muttered quietly as she accepted the ornate sword.

Trevelyan marvelled at the detailed dragon worked into the sword's hilt, whilst Leliana and Cassandra stepped to each of her sides. Obviously the pair were talking up their usual stances as the left and right hands. Though this time it was of the Inquisitor, and not the Divine. Some part of Trevelyan's brain found it all rather ironic, considering how all this had started. However, she knew they were placing a great amount of trust in her, especially Cullen and Cassandra. Whose professions meant they stood opposite mages, as a rule.

"With fear running rampant, they need to see a mage standing for what's right," Trevelyan told the two women, as she pondered the sword. "I'll defeat Corypheus standing with them, not over them." Her voice was obviously louder than she intended, for there was a murmur of approval that seemed to ripple through the gathered crowd.

Suddenly, Cassandra raised her voice: "Have the people been told?"

"They have," Josephine answered. "And soon the world."

At those words, Trevelyan's heart began to beat frantically in her chest. Her mouth felt dry, and her stomach was a tumble of butterflies. Though she was hopefully that no one noticed how hard she was finding it to simply breath.

"Commander?" the seeker called. "Will they follow?"

Trevelyan's eyes snapped to Cullen, whose attractive mouth almost held a smirk. The commander held her gaze for a moment, full of confidence, before giving a nod. He stepped in front of the crowd.

"Inquisition, will you follow?" Cullen questioned, his rich voice full of command. A cheer answered him. "Will you fight?" he asked, answered by a louder, more raucous cheer.

The rapid beating of Trevelyan's heart increased, tenfold. The butterflies she had felt earlier were now twisting into knots. She wasn't sure if it was from watching Cullen, or trying to get her head around what she had just agreed to, but her knees felt weak.

"Will we triumph?" Cullen shouted above the cheering, that only increased in volume. "Your leader. Your Herald. Your Inquisitor."

The commander had to yelled to be heard over the crowd, but as he turned to face her, raising his sword in a salute, Trevelyan's heart felt like it skipped a beat. Her green eyes locked onto his warm gaze, and she had to almost physically shake herself to snap out of the trance she felt take hold.

"What do I do now?" she asked in a hissing whisper, glancing at Cassandra.

"Raise the sword aloft," the seeker advised.

"As you've just watched the commander do," Leliana added, a knowing smile on her face.

_'Blast her'_ Trevelyan thought.

She hoped it was only the spy master's keen observation skills that had given her away, and that she hadn't been gwaking too much. Despite her anxiety, Trevelyan did as advised, and raised the sword above her head. She felt utterly stupid, standing on the stone staircase. A mage holding a warrior's weapon, whilst a crowd cheered manically for her. It was ridiculous. Trevelyan felt only slightly less silly, when Varric caught her eye and he nodded at her in approval.

_'Evelyn Trevelyan, **really** what have you got yourself into?'_ she wondered.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This was originally the second part of the fifth chapter. Chapter title/slight theme is inspired by The Gossip song of the same name.**


	22. Sacred Lie

**Sacred Lie**

Suppressing a weary groan, Trevelyan flopped into a bar stool between Bull and Krem. Not caring a damn for propriety, she did one of the most unladylike thing she could think of. Trevelyan cursed vividly, and loudly, in three languages no less. Then she slammed her hands against the oak table, her head quickly following.

"That bad, boss?" the Qunari chuckled.

Trevelyan only dignified answering with a grunt.

"I know what will help," Krem announce, laying a hand on her shoulder before leaving the table. A few short minutes later, a tankard of ale was placed in front of her, and the Tevinter slid back onto his stool.

"Marry me?" she asked, before downing the amber liquid in a few large gulps.

"Pretty lady like you? I'd be seriously tempted," Krem grinned.

"If not for Nadia," Dalish, another one of the Bull's Chargers, interrupted. Which caused poor Krem to blush profusely.

Bull laughed heartily at his second's discomfort, before quickly changing the topic. "So really, is it that bad boss. Not every day you're made Inquisitor of one of the largest forces in Thedas."

"You mean other than Cassandra threatening to beat Varric to within an inch of his life because he's known where Hawke is all along. Breaking up a squabble between my advisers regarding Orlais' grand game, of all things. And the quartermaster bringing three, very large, restoration projects to my attention. Projects that I have no idea how to find the resources for?" Trevelyan asked, sickly sweet. "No, everything is just peachy."

That pulled another hearty laugh from Bull, and he clapped her on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of her. "That's why I only take jobs I get paid for," he grinned, before nodding his head towards the tavern's door. "Though I think someone is looking for you, boss."

Trevelyan turned to find Blackwell regarding her. She gave him an acknowledging smile as she rose to stand. Without a second thought, she leant down and kissed Krem on the cheek. "Thanks for the drink."

"Anytime, Boss," Krem smiled, blushing slightly. Both he and Bull raised their tankard in a parting salute, as Trevelyan went to join Blackwell.

"Don't worry, Boss. I'll think of something to take your mind off things," Bull called. Though the way he winked at her, had Trevelyan wondering if it was a threat rather than a promise.

"My lady," Blackwall greeted when she reached him. "Care to walk the ramparts? I want examine our fortifications."

"Of course," Trevelyan agreed, easily.

Walking side by side, they crossed the courtyard and began to climb the staircase near the tavern. The day was bright and sunny, which afforded them amazing views from their vantage point, atop the ramparts. Trevelyan was rather impressed with the range of sight they had, and Blackwall nodded his head in obvious approval.

"We'll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away," the warden stated, leaning his shoulder against a parapet.

"He's not going to get the better of us again," Trevelyan agreed, as she moved to stand beside him.

"We lost good soldiers that day, good men and women. And when he came after you..." Blackwall paused, as if deliberating his next words. When the warden spoke again, his tone was harder. "He really made it personal." Blackwall turned to her then, his grey-blue eyes serious and intent. "I swear, I will take that twisted bastard down. Even if I have to die to do it."

His words shocked her. Trevelyan knew the life of a warden meant sacrifice, but she refused to even consider a single one of her friends dying. "I'm not losing anyone to Corypheus. Especially not you," she stated.

She believed in Blackwall. He was a good man, a good soldier. If anyone could come out of this crazy mess, Trevelyan was sure he could. She was also damned determined not to send anyone to their deaths. Her father had always taught his children that no one was expendable, that everyone mattered. It was something Trevelyan and her brothers had taken to heart.

"You can't afford to think I'm special," Blackwall replied, though his expression and tone had softened slightly. "I'm a soldier. No different then any soldier lost at Haven." He paused then, taking hold of her hand and raising it to his lips. Just as he had done in the village forge, all those weeks ago. "I am fond of you, it's true, but we can't let this go any further," he said, squeezing her hand gently before letting go. "This... what ever... _this _could be, is impossible."

Trevelyan smiled at him warmly. She wasn't exactly sure if she would have pursued anything more than the pleasant flirtations, that she had already traded with the warden. He was a good looking man, and still oddly charming. She enjoyed his company. However there wasn't the same pull Trevelyan felt when she looked at Cullen, even if the commander often drove her mad. But Blackwall was being chivalrous, for whatever reason he felt it necessary, and she wouldn't diminish that.

"You're right," she said softly. "This should go no further. Though I'd be honoured to still call you a friend."

"Thank you, my lady." He bowed to her, much to Trevelyan's surprise. "You'll see this is for the best."

If the warden was going to say any more on the subject, it was lost as loud banging, clattering and shouting could be heard below. Both curious, Trevelyan and Blackwall looked over the rampart wall, to find droves of people filing into Skyhold. It reminded her of the occasional market day in Ostwick, that she had been allowed to accompany her mother to as a child.

"Look, inspite of it all, there is hope. People flock to your banner, they believe in you." Blackwall gave her a sudden, sideways look. "Honestly, tell me, are you what they say you are, Andraste's chosen?"

Trevelyan sighed, honestly hating the question. She didn't believe it one iota, but the people did, and she was never sure how best to diplomatically answer the question. "I really don't know," she replied, as honestly as she could. "There's so little I remember. What if they are right?" Her doubt must have been evident, for Blackwall lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Does it even matter? Don't you see what you are to them? Without you they'd be consumed by despair, we all would," he admitted, once again surprising her. "They need you to be Andraste's messenger. It gives them hope. The truth doesn't matter..." The warden trailed off as he said that, his voice becoming almost a whisper, and his gaze drifted to the bridge below. "Ah, listen to me talk. You're time is valuable, and I've wasted enough of it."

There was something in what he had said, 'the truth doesn't matter', that made Trevelyan think he was talking about more than just her title as Herald. Something was troubling him, but she wouldn't push. Trevelyan simply hoped that Blackwall would feel able to open up to her, when he was ready. Catching his forearm, she halted his departure, and smiled when he looked at her in confusion. Trevelyan had to rise slightly on the balls of her feet to reach, but she lightly kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Blackwall. I'm glad you're here."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title/slight inspiration is from the Disturbed song of the same name. This was originally the third part of the fifth chapter. **


	23. The Spider and the Fly

**The Spider and the Fly**

The day had been so full of meetings, that Trevelyan's head spun. And to top it all off, Leliana and Josephine had taken it upon themselves to arrange for three trainers to come to Skyhold, in order for Trevelyan to improve her skills... aparently. Perhaps she should be flattered, and perhaps she would have been, if not for the specialists they had chosen.

First there was 'your trainer', a Rift Mage who had so much crammed in her head she literally couldn't remember her own name. Then, Viuus Anaxas, a Morrtalitasi mage from Nevarra. He was a pleasant enough man, but the thought of raising the dead to fight at one's command, was a little too unsettling for Trevelyan. Even after everything that she had endured so far. And then there was Helaine, a knight-enchanter... a mage so far up her own ass, that she made Vivienne seem cuddly. Which was quite scary, and anger provoking. Trevelyan had no issue with the woman being an elf, though she had _every_ problem with her demanding respect without earning it.

That had obviously left her with only one choice of specialisation. Even though 'your trainer' was a very sweet woman, she was quite befuddled, which made Trevelyan wonder how competent a trainer she would be. If it hadn't been for knowing Solas was, for all intents and purposes, a Rift Mage as well, Trevelyan would have been worried that all those who studied the specialisation became completely baffled. It had been with Solas in mind, that Trevelyan had sought refuge. She had literally ran when she has heard Josephine calling her name, for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Which was exactly the reason Trevelyan was currently hiding under Solas' desk, much to the elf's amusement.

"So you have begun practising new magical forms," he observed. Humour laced Solas' low voice, as he stood above her, acting as if he were merely muttering to himself during his research. "Interesting. You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade. Likely using your mark as a catalyst. I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn them. Why did you chose such an esoteric area of study?"

"I hoped studying such magic would help me better understand the Fade," Trevelyan sighed. "Along with the fact that raising the dead seems wrong to me. Corpses shouldn't walk let, alone pick up a sword. And that damn Helaine..." She let out an angry huff, not bothering to finish the sentence that would undoubtedly turn into a tirade.

"Indeed," Solas replied, giving a low throaty chuckle. "Our fight affords little time for formal study, but the wise can better themselves even in the midst of battle. Perhaps especially then. I hope your new studies serve you well." He paused then, and Trevelyan got the distinct impression that the elf was smirking. "Do you need anything else? Other than sating your desire to hide under my desk that is."

A cheeky retort was on the tip of her tongue, but before Trevelyan could answer, a door opened and soft, bare footsteps padded in.

"Hahren, have you seen Lady Evelyn around?" Nadia asked.

"I have not da'len," Solas replied evenly. "Is there something you needed?"

"No... just Krem asked me to find her. Apparently Iron Bull wanted to see her, he's out in the courtyard," Nadia replied.

"I will be sure to let her know, should I see her," he replied.

"Ma serannas, hahren."

Once Trevelyan had heard Nadia walk away, and the door shut behind, she tentatively crawled out of her hiding spot. Taking Solas' offered hand as she rose. "Hahren?" she asked.

Solas smiled at her correct pronunciation, for once. "Elder," he explained. "It's used among the Dalish as a term of respect. Or by city elves to refer to the alienage leader."

Trevelyan tilted her head slightly to the side, regarding him, as she leant against his desk. "It sort of suits you," she declared, pushing off the work surface. "Well, I better go and see what Bull wants." With that, she slipped around the desk and strode to the door that led to the main hall. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Thanks for granting me safe haven," she grinned, before leaving the rotunda.

"You heard what Tiny and Curly are up to?" Varric greeted, immediately falling into step beside her.

Trevelyan was about to reply, when the scene in front of her stopped her dead. From her and Varric's vantage point atop of the main staircase, she had the perfect view of the upper courtyard. A large crowd forming a circle had gathered in front of the tavern, with the middle left clear, save for two figures. A topless Iron Bull, though really that was not surprising, was squaring off against an equally topless commander. Both men were unarmed, and it was obvious this was meant as a friendly sparring match.

After descending the stairs by Varric's side, and two of them being dragged to the front of the crowd by Nadia and Krem, Trevelyan couldn't help wondering if this was what Bull meant, when he said he'd 'think of something to take her mind of things'. The very conspicuous wink that Bull gave when he caught sight of her, confirmed that he most certainly did, and Trevelyan couldn't help but chuckle.

As both men circled each other, Trevelyan indulged in letting her eyes wander over Cullen's form. Bare from the waste up, apart from the expected boxing leathers wrapped around his fists, the commander was an impressive sight to behold. Broad shoulders, well defined pectorals, an amazing six pack and muscular arm. A warrior's body. Several scars were visible on his chest and torso even at a distance, but to Trevelyan, they only added to the appeal. His chest was hairless, though a line of strawberry-blonde hair travelled from his navel down towards the waist of his black leather breeches. A line that Trevelyan's eyes couldn't help but follow.

An almost growl sounded behind her as an arm draped leisurely over her shoulders. "I want to bang that man like a door in a hurricane," Dorian drawled.

"You paint quite the picture sparkler," Varric chuckled.

"Uh-huh." Was all Trevelyan could manage, her concentration a little too focused on the commander's physique, much to both men's amusement.

"Trevi...?" Varric questioned, raising an eyebrow at her, and a shit-eating-grin on his face.

Realising what she had just agreed to, Trevelyan simply grinned widely, never being one to blush. "What? I've read one too many of you Swords and Shields stories not to have _that_ sort of imagination," she shrugged.

Their attention was dragged back to the sparring match as the crowd around them suddenly cheered loudly. As one, the three of them turn to see Bull lying on his front, Cullen's knee braced across the back of the Qunari's shoulder blades, pinning him to the ground.

"Round one," Krem chuckled as Cullen helped Bull to his feet.

The two men squared off again, slowly circling each other before Bull literally charged with his head down. Cullen managed to dodge out of the way of Bull's horns, only to be caught across the chest by one the Qunari's weighty forearm. The force knocked the commander off balance. Before he could regain his footing, Bull swept a leg out, taking Cullen's feet from under him. Which left the commander sprawled on his back.

"Round two," Trevelyan smirked, settling back on her hip and leaning into Dorian, who moved to wrap his arms loosely round her waist.

"The winner of the next round wins a kiss from the Inquisitor," Varric suddenly shouted, much to Trevelyan's surprise. However the crowd's cheering only grew more raucous from the announcement.

"This should get interesting," Dorian whispered in Trevelyan's ear, subtly nudging her so, she turned her surprised gaze away from the dwarf and back to the impromptu ring.

A smirk formed on her lips as she regarded the two men. Bull was grinning a toothy smile at her, while Cullen seemed to be rooted to the spot, simply staring in utter shock. Trevelyan couldn't help herself, and decided to wink at him. A clearly visible blush began creeping up the commander's neck, and as Bull noticed, the Qunari gave a hearty laugh before clapping Cullen' shoulder in comradery.

"Round three, fight!" A voice yelled from the other side of the courtyard, and the entire crowd looked up to find Sera sitting on a low part of the tavern's roof, her legs dangling over the edge.

"You heard the lady," Blackwall announced, as he strode up the stairs from the lower courtyard to join them.

"Fight!" Trevelyan agreed, much to the crowd's appreciation, if the cheering was anything to go by.

Bull and Cullen began to circle each other, the commander crouching lower than before, as if expecting the Qunari to charge again. It was obviously the right call, for Bull launched himself at Cullen, running full pelt. Instead of dodging out of the way, the commander crouched even lower, whilst turning his torso side on to the charging Qunari. Tucking his shoulder into Bull's stomach, Cullen used the Qunari's own momentum to flip him over his shoulder in one smooth move. Bull landed with a loud thud on the cobbles. He groaned loudly for a moment, before raising his hand in a sign of defeat.

"Round three," Nadia giggled, flashing Trevelyan a cheeky smile. "Now you have to give the commander his prize."

Dorian evidently agreed because, none too subtly, he pushed her forwards. As the crowd cheered, Cullen turned towards Trevelyan's approach, rubbing the back of his neck as he often did when feeling uncomfortable or out of his depth. Feeling impish, Trevelyan put a little more sway in her step than necessary, and heard Sera wolf-whilstle her appreciation. When she drew level with Cullen, he smiled down at her almost shyly.

_'Handsome and adorable!'_ Trevelyan thought.

Another smirk tugged at her lips, as she placed one hand on Cullen's bare chest. His skin was hot to the touch, and his heart rate seemed to pick up speed ever so slightly. To give herself leverage, Trevelyan placed her other hand on his muscular shoulder, and raised herself onto the balls of her feet. Her lips ghosted over his in a teasing hint of a kiss.

"Congratulations, _commander_," she said in a sultry whisper, almost purring his title.

In truth, Cullen seemed a little dazed by it all, until she took a step to move away. Then, he surprised Trevelyan by catching her hand, and raised it to his lips. His warm brown eyes locked onto hers.

"My lady," he replied in a low voice, as he kissed her knuckles.

With a flirtatious smile on her lips, Trevelyan turned to walk away, keeping the sway in her hips. To her amusement, it was Bull who made a noticeable hum of approval.

"That ass," he stated, just loud enough for Trevelyan to hear over the still cheering crowd.

His comment made her outright laugh. "Thanks Bull," she grinned, as she headed for the stairs leading to the main hall.

The figure of Solas in the door way caught Trevelyan's attention. The elf was looking at her intently, with an unreadable look on his face, before he turned away and walked back inside. Disappearing from view. Trevelyan's brow furrowed. She couldn't be sure, but Solas had seemed a little annoyed.

"What was that about?" Varric asked, following her line of sight and echoing her own thoughts.

"I have no idea," Trevelyan replied at length, feeling quite confused. She shook her head, almost as if doing so would help clear her thoughts. It didn't. "I'll see you later," she told Varric, squeezing his shoulder as she headed towards the stairs, hoping to catch up with Solas.

The stoic elf was nowhere to be seen in the main hall, so she chose the next logical place and headed for the rotunda. Surprisingly, he wasn't their either. Worrying her lip, Trevelyan lent against his desk trying to decide the next course of action. Then it struck her. Heading back towards the main hall, she veered right, descended the flight of stone stairs that led to Skyhold's vault. There was only one other place Trevelyan could think Solas might be. The small enchanter's library they had discovered.

Only one other person besides themselves knew about it, Dorian. And the Tevinter mage detested the place, saying it was far too dank and musty. To be honest, Trevelyan expected that Leliana also knew, as nothing got past the spy master, but she doubted it was of much interest to the bard. Solas on the other hand, was as equally fascinated with the small room as she was. Trevelyan's instinct proved correct, for she found him hunched over the solitary desk, with only a few candles illuminating the dark space.

"Inquisitor," Solas greeted formally, turning round to face Trevelyan the moment she set foot into the poky, bookcase filled 'hallway' that led to the circular room.

Trevelyan's winced, she had that title less than a twenty fours hours, and she was already hating it. Somehow it irked her even more when Solas called her that. Perhaps because it felt like the aloof elf was putting up barriers, despite her efforts to become friends with him. If Trevelyan was to be honest with herself, which she always tried to be, she could admit the elf's formalness hurt a little.

"You know," she said at length, trying to hide her irritation. "I'm interested in what you told me of yourself and the Fade. If you have time, I'd like to hear more."

Solas looked genuinely surprised. Like he never expected someone to be interested, let alone her. "You continue to surprise me," he admitted. "All right, let us talk... preferably somewhere more interesting than this."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title/slight inspiration of theme is from the Fats Waller song of the same name. This was originally the fourth section of the the fifth chapter. ****Dorian's comment about Cullen was inspired by a comic strip I found on Pinterest, which was originally posted/created by Siriusdraws on tumblr. Sera's comment is a nod to Mortal Kombat, because I love those films/games &amp; couldn't resist. **


	24. Soft as Snow

**Soft as Snow**

When Solas had mentioned somewhere interesting, Haven wasn't exactly where Trevelyan had in mind. In truth, it was nothing like she had in mind. The place was deserted, eerily quite, with a thick layer of virgin snow covering everything. Trevelyan had never thought she would see this place again, and being here left she feeling bewildered.

"Why here?" Trevelyan asked. As she leant on her dragon-headed staff, in much the same way as Solas was on his.

"Haven is familiar," Solas answered simply. "It will always be important to you."

"Just me?" she queried, a playful lilt to her voice.

The elf merely answered with a small smile, before leading her further through the deserted streets of Haven. There was something strange about the place now. It seemed as if the Inquisition forces and other inhabitants of the small village had simply vanished. Disappearing in the midst of their every day lives, instead of driven out of their home by a fierce battle. It was disconcerting, almost other worldly.

Trevelyan's mind travelled along this train of thought as she followed Solas through the empty chantry, still lit by candles, though their flames no longer waved in the once perpetual breeze. Something nagged at her conscious, trying to tell her that fact as important, yet the feeling fled when they started descending steps to the lower level of the chantry. Trevelyan's stomach twisted into knots, and she really found herself fighting the urge to run. After her exoneration, Trevelyan had _never_ ventured back into the cells where she had first awoken at the start of this crazy adventure. Unnameable fear had always kept her well away. A strong hand placed gently against her lower back managed to chase the demons from her mind, and Trevelyan gave Solas an almost shy smile in thanks.

"I sat beside you whilst you slept, studying the anchor," he told her. Both their gazes were drawn to the shackles that had once bound her, that now lay discarded on the floor.

"Thank you," Trevelyan replied quietly. "I'm glad someone was watching over me, even if it was only because of interest in this damn mark." She chuckled, showing it was said in jest, though she couldn't help smiling at him affectionately. "I'm glad it was you."

Solas seemed surprised by this admission, but returned her smile. "You were a mystery. You still are." His smile transformed into a small smirk. "I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity, threaten to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results."

Trevelyan's eyes narrowed in anger. Given her own first encounter with the brash warrior, she could well expect something like that to have happened. "Bitch," she muttered, not quite under breath, causing Solas to chortle. His mirth brought out Trevelyan's own amusement, and she chuckled with him, before pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Guess Cassandra's like that with everyone."

"Yes," Solas agreed, a chuckle was still evident in his voice as he bade her to lead their departure from the depressing room.

She gladly agreed, honestly debating running up the stairs to be free of the place. Thankfully she kept her decorum, though from the amused glance Solas gave her, Trevelyan could guess her discomfort may have been more than a little obvious. And unable to control it, she gave what she hoped was an inaudible sigh of relief, as they re-emerged into the bright sunlight that bathed the silent village.

"You were never going to wake up. How could you? A mortal sent physically through the Fade," Solas continued, leading Trevelyan towards his small cottage.

They halted in the square just outside it, the same place they had shared their impromptu dance under the stars, on the last night the village had provided refuge. A small, wistfully sigh escaped Trevelyan's lips. She was still hurting over the loss of Haven, the loss of soldiers and civilians. Her pain must have been evident, for on her peripheral, she caught Solas hesitantly raising his hand, almost as if in debate with himself, before it curled over her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze.

"I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the breach," he explained, not releasing her shoulder. "Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra, or she in me. I was ready to flee."

The admission shocked Trevelyan, and she regarded him with widened eyes, before closing them momentarily and smiling ruefully. "But you stayed."

"I did," he agreed unnecessarily. Solas' gaze turned to the breach that still hovered in the sky. Which was another thing to add to the slight wrongness of the still place. "I told myself, one more attempt to seal the rifts."

He let go of her shoulder, thrusting his hand forward in a mimicked motion of what she did. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop from chuckling at the impression, Trevelyan leant against the low stone wall, regarding her companion with a wry smile. As she had done countless times before.

_'Is this what he's like when he lets his guard down?'_ she wondered, enjoying seeing the stoic elf so animated. It was a side he rarely revealed.

"I tried and failed," Solas stated, a small self-depreciating smile on his lips as he glanced at her. "No ordinary magic would affect the rifts. I watched them expand and grow, resigned myself to flee and then..."

"A woe-bedraggled mage shows up," Trevelyan interjected. "Complete with disgruntled seeker in tow. Who doubt scowled as you grabbed the mage, leaving bruises I might add, and managed to seal the rift with the strange glowing mark on her hand. Which really hurt by the way."

It was not an admission Trevelyan had ever made, the pain that she felt the first few times she had closed rifts. It had most likely been the pain after closing the breach that had wiped her out for three days, now that she really thought about it. Solas' brow furrowed as they began to walk back through Haven. They left the deserted village, and headed towards the small dock that harboured the frozen lake.

"Does it still bother you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Trevelyan was about to wave it off, but a glance at the steady gaze he was levelling at her, made her think it was probably pointless to try. "Twinges of discomfort," she admitted. "Nothing like it was before."

He didn't look wholly convinced, but gave a hint of a nod as they reached the lake. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation," Solas stated, turning to face her once they were at the edge of the snow covered dock. "You sealed it with a gesture, and right then, I felt the whole world change."

She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his choice of wording. "Felt the whole world change?" Trevelyan questioned, her voice dropping to a playful, almost flirty tone.

"A figure of speech," he smiled.

"I'm aware of the metaphor, I'm more interested in 'felt'," she teased.

His eyes darted away from hers for a moment, only to come back looking more intense. "You change... everything," he stated, but seemed nervous.

Not wanting to make her friend uncomfortable, Trevelyan dropped the playful flirting. Instead, she cupped his left cheek in her hand, before giving the other a light kiss. "For what it's worth, and for all our sakes, I'm pleased you stuck around."

"As am I," the elf agreed softly.

Solas cradled her hand to his cheek with his own, his other hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently tracing over her bottom lip. It was identical to what he had done in the despairing future Redcliffe, moments before he sacrificed himself for her. Quickly, Trevelyan closed her eyes, trying to urge the tears that were forming not to escape. The snow began to fall in swirling billows around them, almost as if it was trying to comfort her.

"You have fracture rules of both man and nature," Solas stated in an obvious attempt to direct her thoughts elsewhere. "And you will shatter more before you are done. Visiting me here, even as a mage, it should not be so easy for you."

Trevelyan's brow furrowed, as her eyes snapped open to regard him. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly. Her hand dropped from his cheek, though it settled on his chest.

"Where did you think we were?" he asked. The animated, amused smile coming back to his lips.

As she cautiously looked around where they stood, Solas' hand moved from her face, to lightly grasp her shoulder. Trevelyan took in the unblemished snow, unmarked even by their footprints. Finally, she realised she couldn't feel the cold, despite the blanket of white that covered nearly everything. The hushed silence of the place, along with the gently falling snow reminded her of another time, another meeting. Back during her fledgling days as Herald. Slowly a wide smile spread across Trevelyan's lips as her gaze met his again, before shaking her head in amusement.

_'He's done it again!' _

Upon seeing the realisation dawn, Solas' own smile widened. "Perhaps we should discuss this after you... Wake Up."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the last part of the fifth chapter. It took me ages to come up with a title, as I usually have a song in mind before I start writing, which wasn't the case with this. However, the title was eventually inspired by the My Bloody Valentine song Soft as Snow (but Warm Inside).**


	25. Every Kind of People

**Every Kind of People**

Stifling a frustrated groan, Trevelyan jogged down the steps to the lower courtyard. _'It's too early in the morning for this'_ she grumbled to herself. The sun had barely crested above the fortress' outer walls, but there she was... rushing down to the lower courtyard, intent on breaking up whatever disagreement was happening between Vivienne, Solas and Cassandra. Trevelyan barely noticed Cole sitting cross legged on the floor. She gave the boy a smile in greeting. She had barely caught a glimpse of him since Haven, and was pleased to see he was still with them.

"This _thing_ is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here," Vivienne decreed, looking down her nose at Solas.

The action sorely irked Trevelyan. She hated how the first enchanter treated the elf. As far as Trevelyan was concerned, Solas was worth a hundred Viviennes. In truth, it was only her mother's lesson of 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all', that stopped Trevelyan from saying so.

"Wouldn't you say the same of an apostate?" Solas countered.

Discretely, Trevelyan placed a hand briefly on Solas' lower back, in a private and silent show of support. His tensing was barely perceptible, but he turned his head and nodded to her. To anyone looking on, it would simply seem as if he were acknowledging her presence. However, the look in Solas' stormy eyes, told Trevelyan that the elf understood her gesture. Cassandra, for her part, merely flashed Trevelyan a thankful look as she joined them.

"Inquisitor," the seeker greeted, which didn't bode well. "I wondered if Cole was perhaps a mage, given his... unusual abilities."

"He can cause people to forget him," Solas interjected. "Or even fail entirely to notice him. These are not the abilities of a mage." His attention turned from the seeker to Trevelyan. "It seems Cole is a spirit."

"It is a demon," Vivienne stated, giving the most ladylike impression of a snarl that Trevelyan had ever heard.

A dark look flickered in Solas' eyes, and it was evident he was trying to keep a hold of his annoyance. "If you like," he replied, a hint of derision in his tone. "Although the truth is somewhat more complex."

Cassandra gave Trevelyan an almost pleading look, and she bit her inner cheek, trying not to sigh. "Cole warned us about Corypheus at Haven. He saved a lot of lives," Trevelyan stated. It was true, the others knew it as well as she did, and Vivienne hated it.

"And what will it's help cost?" the first enchanter snapped, haughtily. "How many lives will this demon later claim?"

"I thought it was taught that demons only gave their service, _after_ a deal had been struck," Trevelyan countered, which earned her a fierce glare from Vivienne.

"In truth, Cole's nature is not so easily defined," Solas continued, looking at Trevelyan intently and acting as if nothing had interrupted him.

"Speak plainly, Solas," Cassandra requested. "What are we dealing with?"

To Trevelyan, it seemed that the seeker had come to reach the same conclusion as she had. That the elf was the person to go to regarding anything to do with the Fade. She was starting to assume that Vivienne had caught wind of their discussion, and forcefully involved herself in it. Which wouldn't be surprising. If that was the case, it would explain why one of Cullen's soldiers had awoken Trevelyan, by pounding on her door first thing this morning. She glanced over in the commander's direction, near a collection of infirmary tents. He was bent over a rough wood table, apparently studying a map. Though, at that moment, Cullen's gaze crept up, and when their eyes met, he blushed slightly. It led Trevelyan to guess that the commander was eavesdropping, probably on Leliana's behest, without trying to act like he was. Which was probably a blessing, considering it had alerted Trevelyan to the problem.

"Demons normally enter this world by possessing something," Solas explained. "In their true form, they look bizarre, monstrous."

Out of the corner of her eye, Trevelyan noticed Cullen shudder. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but the haunted look that briefly flashed across his handsome face, led her to believe it was far from pleasant. Her heart went out to him.

"You claim that, yet Cole looks like a young man. Is it possession?" Cassandra asked.

Truth be told, Trevelyan was rather impressed with how calm the seeker was being. Being a woman of devout faith, Cassandra had been the first to admit her original distrust of mages, along with anything to do with the Fade. And yet, she was being polite and reasonable. Not demanding answers, but requesting them. It seemed Cassandra was truly wanting the guidance, and it was truly refreshing. Trevelyan was proud of her for it.

"No," Solas replied, shaking his head. "He has possessed nothing, and no one. And yet, he appears human in all respects." Once again, his attention shifted from Cassandra to Trevelyan. "Cole is unique, Inquisitor. More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so."

She respected Solas' view on the matter. However, spirit or not, Cole's opinion in this was important to her. Though vaguely, Trevelyan wondered if she should be worried that she didn't find the notion of asking a spirit it's preferences odd. Which led her to idly presume that spending time with Solas was starting to rub off on her.

"I should ask what he thinks of the matter," she replied evenly.

A bare hint of lips raising in the corners, was the subtle sign of approval she receive from her elven companion.

"You're going to talk to that _thing_? Is that wise darling?" Vivienne asked, her perfectly groomed eyebrows arched, radiating disdain.

Shaking her head, Trevelyan chose to ignore her. "Where is Cole now?"

"If none of us remember him, he could be anywhere," Cassandra observed.

Movement near the tents caught Trevelyan's attention, and turning her head, she watched as Cole crouched down next to a patient, taking hold of the hand that was outstretched to him. "Or not," Trevelyan smiled.

Without wasting any more time, she headed over to join Cole, trying to block out the continued arguing behind her. Cullen gave her a concerned glance as she passed, but she merely winked him. She received a shocked look, a shy smile and a deepening blush in response. Which gave life to a little bloom of warmth in her chest. The commander was adorable.

"Haven," Cole announced, glancing over his shoulder as Trevelyan drew near. "So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape." He paused, his attention returning to the man who's hand he was holding. "Choking fear. Can't think for the medicine, but the cuts rack me with every heartbeat. Hot, white pain. Everything burns. I can't... I can't... I'm going to... I'm dying. I'm..."

The man on the floor gasped suddenly. A ragged exhalation followed, before he went limp, and his eyes slid shut for a final time.

"Dead."

Trevelyan watched as Cole gently lay the man's hand on the ground and moved to stand. She place a hand on his, surprisingly solid, shoulder. "You're feeling their pain? Are you alright?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"It's louder this close, with so many of them," he stated.

Unsure what to do, Trevelyan tilted her head so she could just see Cole's eyes from beneath the brim of his oversized hat. "Would you prefer to go somewhere... more comfortable?"

"Yes..." Cole answered hesitantly. "But here is where I can help." He began to walk towards one of the gate towers that had recently become a makeshift infirmary.

"Every breath slower. Like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away. Smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her goodnight." They stood beside another soldier, just as they closed their eyes and shuddered their last breath.

"Gone." Cole turned then, towards a cot in the far side of the small room, Trevelyan followed silently. "Cracked, brown pain. Dry, scraping. Thirsty." He stooped to pick up a cup beside the cot, and held it to the prone woman's lips.

"Thank you," she rasped with obvious gratitude, before slipping back to sleep.

Cole turned to Trevelyan, a slight smile on his thin lips. "It's alright. She won't remember me."

"You're using your powers as a spirit to help people?" Trevelyan knew it was a slightly moot question, she had just witnessed it with her own eyes, after all. But she figured confirmation was better than assumption.

"Yes," Cole replied, as he led her back into the crisp morning air. "I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made... mistakes." He hung his head at the admission. "But I made friends too. Then a Templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything." Cole paused then, seeming sad and lost in memory. "I learnt to be more like what I am. It made me different, but stronger. I can feel more. I can help."

It was hard to see Cole as a spirit, he looked so much like a lost young man. Sounded like it too, and Trevelyan's heart went out to him. "The inquisition could use your help, if you're willing," she said gently.

"You'll... let me stay?" he asked, sounding surprised.

Trevelyan chuckled at that. "Yes Cole, you can stay," she smiled, putting an arm around his thin shoulders, and ushering him away from the makeshift infirmary. "But we should get you settled in first."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the first part of the sixth chapter. The chapter title/slight theme is inspired by the Robert Palmer song Every Kinda People.**


	26. Kryptonite

**Kryptonite**

Trevelyan lent on the parapet next to Varric, though the dwarf still refused to look her in the eye. She felt bad for him, and not just because she had to physically step in between him and Cassandra, before the seeker laid into him last week. Varric looked devastated. His shoulders sagged, and his usual dry smile was no where to be seen.

"I understand you were trying to protect your best friend," she comforted, laying a hand on his broad shoulder.

"Yeah," Varric sighed. "And yet I still managed to drag her into this."

"And I told you it was alright," a pleasant female voice called out.

Both their gazes snapped up to the stairs that led from the ramparts to find a pretty, slender woman descending them. Her startling green eyes were accentuated with deep purple eyeliner, full lips were painted red, and her thick auburn hair fell to her shoulders. She was clad in an unusual set of armour. Tan, grey and beige. Leather, metal and fur. A corseted top with tight fitting pants. That not only provided protection with their armour plating, and full arm guard covering the right arm, but also hugged her body showing off her curves. Trevelyan could well understand how this woman had won the hearts of all of Kirkwall.

Beside her walked a simply stunning man. An elf with olive skin, shocking white hair, and piercing green eyes that peaked out from beneath his long fringe. White intricate tattoos shone on all of his exposed skin, bar his face, and made him look even more breath-taking. He wore impressive black armour, though his gauntlets were silver with a shocking red sash tied around one wrist. Trevelyan couldn't help but wonder if it was a lover's token, as it was obviously worn with care and respect.

"Inquisitor, meet Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall," Varric announced.

Trevelyan raised her eyebrow at her friend referring to her by her title, but didn't comment. Instead she held out her hand to Hawke. "Evelyn," she stated.

Hawke, who had been wearing a guarded look until this moment, suddenly smiled. "Ruby," she replied, shaking her hand. "And this is Fenris," she introduced the elf, notable affection and pride in her voice.

The brief look Fenris gave Hawke was nothing short of adoring, making it clear these two were much more than simply lovers. Trevelyan schooled her face to stop from grinning. She was inexplicably happy that two people had found happiness together, despite all the chaos the whole of Thedas was in. As Fenris turned to regard Trevelyan, he nodded his head respectfully, but still seemed wary.

"Come on, Broody. Let's get a drink and leave the ladies to talk," Varric stated, smiling at both Trevelyan and Hawke in turn.

Fenris looked ready to argue, until Hawke gave him a slight smile and a nod. "Sour ale, vomit and the smell of depression?" the elf said, deadpan.

Hawke's amused smile and Varric's laugh tipped Trevelyan that it was some sort of private joke.

"Unfortunately, this isn't the Hanged Man," Varric chuckled as the two men disappeared from sight.

With a sigh, Hawke leant on the parapet, looking out over the courtyards. "Impressive view, reminds me of my home in Kirkwall," she stated. "I had a balcony that overlooked the whole city. I loved it at first, but after a while, all I could see were the people out there, depending on me."

Recognising the sentiment, Trevelyan settled herself next to her fellow mage. "I understand," she consoled.

"You are doing everything you can to protect them," Hawke stated, glancing up and giving half a smile.

"Does it ever get any easier?" she asked. Her tone was thankfully even, despite trying not to be awed by speaking to one of her own role models.

Hawke looked pensive, her brow furrowing as if lost in memory. Perhaps she was remembering Anders, for his death surely weighed on her heart. Though Trevelyan couldn't really tell.

"I'll let you know," Ruby said at last, sounding weary. "I don't envy you Evelyn, but I... may be able to help you."

"Varric said you fought Corypheus before..." Trevelyan stated, leaving the rest of the question unsaid, so Hawke could answer as she saw fit.

Her fellow red head pushed away from the parapet, and turned to face her. "Fought and killed," Hawke clarified. "The Grey Warden's were holding him, and he... somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them. Varric, Fenris, Carver and myself defeated him. I'm not sure how he's come back, but if the warden's have disappeared... they could've fallen under his control again."

It was a horrifying thought, but unfortunately, a very plausible one. "If that's what happened to the wardens, do you think we can free them?" Trevelyan asked.

"It's possible," Hawke replied hesitantly. "But we need to know for sure first. My brother is currently away in Weisshaupt, but I have another friend in the wardens. He was investigating something... unrelated, for me. His name is Stroud. The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the warden ranks. Since then, nothing."

"Corypheus would definitely qualify as corruption in the ranks," Trevelyan observed. "Could your friend have disappeared with them."

"No." Hawke shook her head. "He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood."

Trevelyan nodded silent thanks for the information, though she was still curious. "If you don't mind me asking... if you weren't worried about Corypheus, what were you doing with the wardens?"

"Most of the Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange type of lyrium. It was... red. I hoped the wardens could tell me more about it," Hawke explained.

"I've seen the effects," Trevelyan stated. "Corypheus had Templars with him at Haven, they certainly looked like they'd be exposed to the lyrium you describe. Before that, Cullen and Varric told me about what happened with Knight-Commander Meredith." She didn't dare mention about the horrid future she had witnessed with Dorian. Two mage's with that nightmare to deal with was more than enough.

"Hopefully, Stroud will know more." Ruby paused for a moment, seeming to consider something. "How is Cullen?"

The question surprised Evelyn a little. "Why do you ask?" she wondered aloud.

"I considered him as much a friend as an openly known apostate can a Templar," Hawke smiled. "He's a good man, and I hope he is well."

Trevelyan smiled at this. "Perhaps you should see for yourself." Evelyn pointed towards the lower courtyard. "That's currently his office," she laughed.

"Perhaps I will," Hawke chuckled. "I might even see if he'll join us for a drink. Maker knows I owe him a few." A knowing smile formed on Ruby's face. "You should join us too, Evelyn."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the second part of the sixth chapter. This ****Hawke is based of my own DA2 character, who in my headcannon is actually sister to my Warden, Garnet Amell (The Mage's Assassin). I keep meaning to write her story, but got a little side tracked with DA:I oneshots. Though I will, eventually, be writing Ruby Hawke's story as well. I always thought it stupid Fenris wasn't with her, because he was devoted to her. I decided to rectify that, and wrote him in. Chapter title inspired by the 3 Doors Down song of the same name.**


	27. Filii Neidhardi

**Filii Neidhardi**

When Leliana had approached her and said she had found out House Trevelyan's 'dirty little secret', Evelyn had known exactly what she had meant. When Nadia had come to her and revealed she knew how to drum, Evelyn hadn't put two and two together. Now as she stood on the very top floor of the tavern, surrounded by the ladies of her inner circle along with Hawke... and Cole. because the spirit 'wanted to be around happy feelings', Trevelyan couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't been more suspicious. Not that she minded. It was rather freeing, being dressed like this again. Circle life did not allow her the luxury, and it was a rare occasion that she was allowed to return home for a celebration that required _this _type of attire. And what she was wearing now, far outclass what she would have once worn.

Plush fustian velvet and infused vyrantium samaite replaced cotton and lambswool, for her dark red, floor length, multi tiered skirt that sat low on her hips and reminded Trevelyan of burning embers. Red hart leather and pyrophite replaced ram leather and onyx, for her bustier that was barely more modest than her usual breast band. Once there would have been wolves teeth, leather cord and chips of iron, namely around her neck, wrists and hips. Now there was Serault infused glass, silken cord and discs of gold. It was all terribly seductive, and Evelyn felt sexier than she could ever remember. Josephine really was a genius when it came to imports and tailoring, and Trevelyan had the distinct impression that the ambassador had approached the royal harems of Antiva for such an extravagant outfit. Which meant that she and Leliana had been planning to reveal knowledge of her family secret for a while.

To compliment the allure of the outfit, Evelyn had forgone her usual, beloved green eyeliner. Instead choosing the line her eyes with intense black Kohl. Her lips here also a darker shade of red than usual, to compliment the skirt, and her hair was thoroughly tousled in a way that made her look like 'a ravished goddess'. According to Cassandra at least, who had obviously been reading too many Swords and Shields again. The whole outfit left a lot of skin exposed, particularly revealing heavily swirling, vine like tattoos. Red and umber ink that snaked across her body from just under the left side of her bust, across her flat torso, following the curve of her hip bone towards her back and disappeared below the waist of her low lying skirt. Evelyn was barefoot, except for a thin wrap of golden bells tied around each of her ankles to jingle along with her coin belt.

As Leliana began the first tantalising notes on her Zurna horn, Trevelyan raised her arms above her head, crossing them at the wrists. Then Nadia took up the beat with her Bodhrán drum, Evelyn jutted out her right hip, leaning her weight on it and bent her left knee, the heel of her left foot raised from the floor. She rolled her hips in time to the music, twisting her wrists together as she lowered her hands in front of her.

Trevelyan shifted her weight, right hip canting down and left hip cocked, as her arms gracefully opened. She shimmied her hips, then rolled her stomach muscles. The undulating movement started just below her ribs and rippled through her torso, finishing with a smooth roll of her hips. Abruptly Evelyn turned, her back to her eight strong audience. Continuing to twist her arms in an alluring manner, she began to bend backwards, until she was looking at her friends upside down. Using the muscles in her sides, Evelyn moved her her upper torso first to the right, then left.

There was the unmistakable tramp of boots on wooden stairs, quickly joined by raised voices. _'Damn it!'_ Trevelyan thought.

She had not intending to perform for anyone other than those currently present, certainly for the time being at least. However, there was a wicked gleam in the Leliana's eyes, as she continued to play the seductive melody. Nadia's continued drum beat and grinning smile were infectious. Feeling rather demon-may-care, Trevelyan began to smirk as she slowly rolled herself upright, her arms continuing to draw intricate patterns in the air. There was the distinct sound of tripping footsteps and grunts as the interlopers presumably bumped into one another.

With her head still tilted backwards, as if baring her throat for a lover, Evelyn enticingly shimmied her hips, before standing tall again. She was greeted by the sight of Blackwall, Cullen, Solas and Krem simply staring at her. Fenris, Varric and Dorian all had smirks on their faces, and the Iron Bull's grin was down right lecherous. When Trevelyan had agreed to perform a dance native to her family's secret heritage, this was not how she expected it to end up. Yet she simply rolled with it. It wasn't the first time Evelyn had performed to an astonished audience. Though, in truth, she had never had to work with them afterwards.

Carrying on the dance, Trevelyan undulated her hips, her stomach muscles rippling, before taking a step towards the men. At the bang of Nadia's drum she stopped. Bang bang, Evelyn's hips canted from side to side. Another step, another bang. Halt. Bang bang, hips canted in reply. This repeated two more times until Trevelyan stood in front of a, quite honestly, flabbergasted looking commander. She placed a hand flat across the centre of his chest, shrugging her shoulders in reply to Nadia's two drum beats, before ducking and twisting under her own arm. Her skirt swished across the wooded floor as she turned, coming face to face with a surprised looking Solas. Bringing her arms from behind her back to above her head, she twisted her wrists together as she had done at the start of her dance, and rolled her hips away from the elf's body. Before fully finishing the movement, Evelyn let her left leg follow her hips, turning with the momentum until she had her back pressed firmly against Dorian's chest.

"Aren't you the saucy minx," the Tevinter mage chuckled in response.

Langorously, Trevelyan draped her left arm around the the back of Dorian's neck, and began to slide her legs apart, slowly do the splits. Thankfully, he understood her intent, and dipped with her, allowing her to sink fully to the floor before pulling her gently back up. With a teasing roll of her hips, she spun to face Varric, leaning down to kiss the dwarf on the nose, then spun herself away from the men. She came back to almost her starting position.

Her right hip cocked, left knee bent and left foot barely touching the floor as she slowly dipped backwards again. Her arms rose in front of her, continuously twisting at the wrists, until they were above her head. Bang bang. Evelyn bounced her weight into her right hip replying to Nadia's drum, as her head dropped back, and her fingertips touching the floor. Trevelyan then rippled her stomach muscles, righting herself, and brought her hands just in front of her breasts. Bang bang. Trevelyan pulled her shoulder blades together, quickly releasing the hold to shrug her shoulders forward and back in a final reply.

As the last notes of Leliana's horn died away, the women burst into cheers and applause. Even Lady Vivienne looked impressed. Some clapping sounded behind Trevelyan, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Varric, Dorian and Bull grinning and applauding her. Fenris was clapping but his smile more reserved. Blackwall's gaze looked almost glazed over. Cullen and Krem were both blushing profusely, and Solas had a completely unreadable look on his face, though he too started to clap.

"Chasind, boss?" Bull asked, sound rather impressed.

Trevelyan shrugged. "Grandma Rosa was from Tombigbee."

Evelyn had never seen a problem with her Grandmother being Chasind. Obviously, otherwise she wouldn't have learned some of their, less barbaric, customs. She had loved belly dancing most of all, and had practised it whenever she could, after she was taken to the Ostwick circle. Naturally, that had caused a lot of gossip, marking her as the 'barbarian witch' quite often. Not that Trevelyan cared, her Grandmother was the most likely reason she had been born a mage, after all. Just another black sheep of the family.

Hawke tossed Evelyn a loose, deep orange tunic to put on over her bustier. "We'll never get a game of wicked grace going, if the men can't concentrate because of your sex appeal," she laughed.

"Now that you mention it, that wouldn't have been a bad idea," Trevelyan grinned, sitting on the floor next to Nadia. "We could have made a killing."

* * *

**Author's Note****  
Inspiration for the chapter title, as well as for the entire theme is the 'song' Filii Neidhardi by Corvus Corax. If you want to get a real feel for the chapter, I suggest you check out that piece of music. When I first started writing this fic, I had never intended to give Trevelyan much of a background, other than the bare bones that are already given. But the song popped an idea in my head &amp; I went with it. For those that would like to know: A Zurna Horn is a woodwind instrument used to play Anatolian, Middle Eastern and Central Asian folk music. The ******bodhrán****** is an Irish frame****** drum****** ranging from 25 to 65cm (10 to 26in) in diameter. The drum is struck either with the bare hand or with a lathe-turned piece of wood called a ****bone, tipper, beater, or cipín. **


	28. Count on Me

**Count on Me**

The Storm Coast was _not_ one of Trevelyan's favourite places, the constant rain never failed to settle a bone weary ache into her body. Even now, the ever present rain was drumming its tune onto the canvas of the tent. Despite shivering uncontrollably, Evelyn let out a contented sigh as she crawled into the haphazard pile of furs and blankets. She stretched languidly, trying to ease the tension in her body.

"You're giving quite the show, Inquisitor," Varric chuckled from his place amongst the furs.

As far as Trevelyan was concerned, the dwarf could laugh all he liked. He'd been kind enough to lend her a spare tunic, after her pack had been washed out to the roiling sea during a fight with some Red Templars. The pale green hue and the sumptuous feel of the ring velvet, was a welcome reprieve from the leather that most of her sodden armour was comprised of. Even if the tunic was just this side of respectable when Evelyn wore it, as it barely covered her bottom. Joining in with his chuckling, Trevelyan crawled over to Varric like a cat, until she unceremoniously flopped herself down next to him, pillowing her head on his shoulder as he lay on his back.

"Just trying to give you ideas for your next Swords and Shields," she teased. Absent-mindedly. Evelyn's fingers began to caress Varric's impressive chest.

"Nothing to do with the chest hair then?" he quipped back.

"Oh Varric, you know us women are just crazy for your chest hair," Evelyn retorted, snuggling closer to his warmth.

"Indeed," Cassandra stated, deadpan.

Without preamble, the seeker threw a blanket over Trevelyan's bare legs, before settling down with them. Cassandra chose to rest the back of her head on the side of Evelyn's hip, her long legs curling over Varric's shorter ones, as she pulled another blanket over herself. Obviously deciding she was comfortable, the seeker then pulled out a book which prompted Trevelyan to conjure some werelights for her. It came as no surprise that Cassandra's choice of reading material was the latest copy of Swords and Shields, which was a peace offering from Varric.

When Evelyn had first awoken in Haven after the destruction of the conclave, she would never image how things would change. How their dynamics and relationships would change. How they would come to rely on each other, actually consider each other friends. Family even. The closeness and companionship was welcome and comforting. It showed how far they'd come, how much they now trusted one another. Although...

"You not joining us, Chuckles?" Varric asked, smoothing down Evelyn's wayward red hair, to look at the elf sitting on the other side of the tent.

"I would not wish to deprive you of your inspiration," Solas stated dryly.

Glancing over her shoulder, Trevelyan regarded her fellow mage. He too had stripped from his soaked armour, though unlike the rest of them, he had elected to fully dress again. Solas was now wearing his familiar cream tunic but had replaced his normal green leather breeches from some tan cotton trews. It was quite a contrast from Evelyn's borrowed tunic and bare legs, Varric's bare torso and burgundy Highever Weave trews, and Cassandra's oversized white cotton shirt that was combined with a pair of grey cotton shorts.

"Are you alright, Solas?" Trevelyan asked, managing to stretch a hand out to lightly touch the elf's knee, without jostling the seeker.

Solas tensed slightly at the touch. "I assure you, I am fine," he replied politely.

"Guess all that traipsing about the wilderness makes you more resilient than us towns folk," Varric smiled. His comment made Trevelyan wonder if he'd caught Solas' tensing too, and was trying to give the elf an excuse.

"Years of wandering mean the rain and cold do not bother me so much any more," Solas agreed.

Before anything more could be said, the soft thump of a book hitting the floor drew their attention towards the seeker. Trevelyan smiled warmly when she realised their friend had fallen asleep, and she brushed a hand through Cassandra's cropped black hair affectionately.

"Guess you're not moving tonight," Varric said, amusement lacing his voice.

"And if I'm not, neither are you," Evelyn retorted. She returned her hand to his soft chest hair, before wiggling slightly to get into a comfortable position to sleep.

"Can you imagine any man complaining about having two beautiful women draped over him for the night?" he teased, his arm curling protectively around her shoulders.

Behind her, Trevelyan could hear the shuffle of blankets and Solas settled himself down as well, which prompted her to extinguish her werelights.

"If you get cold during the night, please join us," Evelyn requested softly.

Though she already knew the elf would probably suffer before doing so, and she wasn't sure if she should be offended or concerned by that fact.

"I... will bear that in mind," Solas replied politely.

Varric squeezed Trevelyan gently, obviously hearing the same 'no' that she did. Evelyn really didn't understand the elf's reluctance. She remembered, all too well, the night he had fallen into the frozen river... but Evelyn respected Solas. So she had to respect his idiosyncrasies, even if they made no sense.

_'He's been alone too long'_ was the last thing Trevelyan thought, before the Fade claimed her.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Once again, another chapter set around the events of the game. Giving some background and also building the relationships some more. This was originally the first section of the seventh chapter. Chapter title &amp; slight theme is inspired by the Bruno Mars song of the same name.**


	29. You've Got a Friend

**You've Got a Friend**

The fire was crackling merrily in the hearth, and candles flickered upon the mantle. The rest of Trevelyan's room was shrouded in darkness, save her bed, where a shaft of silvery moonlight caressed the luxurious silk sheets and plush velvet drapes. However, this lap of luxury was not where Evelyn had chosen to spend this particular midnight. She sat, crossed legged on the floor of her room, close to the roaring fire. Across from her sat Solas, mirroring her position. Between them sat a heavy tome, dedicated to ancient Fade lore and spirit magic. The time spent traipsing around the Wounded Coast was time spent away from her studies, time Evelyn felt she needed to make up.

Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on her hand, that was hovering just over the book, her arm propped up on her leg. Desperately, Evelyn tried to stir her mark into life, something she could never control, and only seemed to happen when she was near a rift. A green light began to emanate from her palm, as she consciously tried to keep her breathing deep and even, as Solas had instructed. Unfortunately, the light sputtered for a heartbeat before dying.

Trevelyan couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan. "Damn it all!" she grit out through clenched teeth. "And damn the Maker."

Solas chuckled. "What would the people say, if they knew their beloved Herald uttered such blasphemous things?"

"In all honesty, they can shove their Maker where the sun doesn't shine." With an annoyed huff, Evelyn let her head roll back, lightly thumping against the footboard of her mahogany bed.

"I believe, falon, you have been spending too much time with Sera," Solas observed, dryly.

Even with her eyes shut, Trevelyan knew the elf was smirking. "Or Bull."

She rolled her neck and shoulders, trying to release some of the tension from being hunched over for so long, before returning to her original position. Her hand hovering between them once more.

"If I may?" Solas asked, nodding towards the outstretched appendage.

Unsure exactly what he intended, Evelyn smiled at him, though raised an eyebrow. "You are aware Dorian's my best friend? I'm hardly going to mind you touching my hand, when I'm used to his hands on affection."

The only reply Trevelyan got was a barely there smile, as Solas cupped the back of her hand in both his palms. His touch was careful, tentative. Almost as if he was unsure it was welcome, despite her consent. Feeling the feather-light touch, and considering how he tensed whenever someone touched him, Evelyn couldn't help but wonder how lonely Solas' life had been. He might be able to walk the Fade and share discourse with spirits, but a living breathing soul needed the touch of another. Just as much as the body needed food, water, warmth and rest.

"Concentrate," the elf instructed, still barely holding her hand in both of his.

Evelyn did as he asked, once again focusing her mana and attention onto the mark on her left palm. Slowly, it began to flicker to life. Dancing green sparks created random illuminations, drowning out the warm candle and fire light. The effort of summoning the power of her own free will was taxing, and Trevelyan's hand began to tremble and her fingers twitch. Solas' grip on her hand became a little firmer. His fingers curled around her hand, never covering the palm, but gently coaxing her hand to open up again.

"Do not tense," he instructed, his voice rather soothing. "Relax your body and focus your mind."

Trevelyan tried to do as Solas advised, but it was proving difficult. The arduous three day trek back from the Storm Coast had obviously been more trying than she had first thought. Her mana was rapidly depleting. The light from the mark rippled for a moment, when she caught the right combination of focus and mana, before it spluttered wildly. With an undignified yelp, a sound of both shock and pain, Evelyn quickly ended the spell. Pulling her hand from Solas' grasp, she cradled it to her chest. The mark stung something vicious.

Obvious concern flashed across the elf's face, before he slowly held out his hand to her, giving her a questioning look. Once again, unsure what Solas intended, Trevelyan gingerly set her still clench hand into his waiting one. She couldn't help but wince as he carefully unfurled her fingers, and a hiss of pain slipped through her teeth when he gently stroked the scar the mark formed, despite the healing spell he was casting. His ministrations and magic stopped abruptly, and even the hand holding hers hovered away, as he gave her a stricken look.

"I did not intent to cause you pain," Solas stated, actually sounding full of remorse.

Feeling sorry for him, Trevelyan gave a weak smile as she tried to get her breathing back into a normal rhythm. Her unmarked hand gently squeeze his, now that it sat limply resting on the floor in front of his crossed legs.

"Wasn't you," she assured through her panting. "Just this stupid thing stings worse than one of Sera's Jar of Bees."

As she went to release his hands, Evelyn found Solas' fingers seemed to linger on her skin, almost as if he was reluctant to end the contact. _'Touch starved?'_ she wondered. It was only when she noticed the elf's surprised yet indignant look, and almost whispered question of: "Pardon?" that Trevelyan realised that she had said it out loud. Figuring that since she had already blurted that out, even if only by accident, she may as well push as far as she could. She'd be gentle, respectful, and hopefully wouldn't offended him. Tilting her head slightly to the side, Evelyn considered the man in front of her and the now, closed off expression on his face.

"Before joining the Inquisition, how often did you spend in the company of people outside the Fade?" she asked, hoping she had worded her question in the least offensive manner.

Instead of answering, Solas' gaze fell away from Trevelyan's face, seeming to fix on something interesting just over her shoulder. His response, or lack of, confirmed her suspicion. Cautiously, Evelyn let her hand slip back over his, slowly and idly tracing indistinct patterns over the back of his fingers. When Solas didn't tense or pull away from her touch, Trevelyan took it as an encouraging sign, and a vast improvement on how he normally reacted.

"A person needs touch as much as they need to eat or drink. Sure they can last longer without it, but doesn't mean they need it any less," she counselled.

A non-committal hum was all Evelyn got in reply. Verbally at least, for Solas turned his hands over so her ministrations moved to his palms. Carefully, she brought her marked hand to join the other. Cautious not to stretch her scar too much, Evelyn's fingertips lightly brushed over the elf's palms. Trevelyan tried not to smile as she watched Solas let his guard down, for once, and close his eyes. Presumably, he was enjoying the sensations. Gradually, with no small amount of care on her part not to aggravate the mark or startle her friend, Evelyn flattened her palms against his, before slowly sliding her hands until they encircled his wrists. She wasn't certain, but she was sure she heard a faint murmur of approval from the elf, but didn't comment. Instead, Evelyn gently slid her hands up the length of his arms, the wool of his tunic softer than she expected. When her hands came to rest lightly on Solas' shoulders, he opened his eyes looking slightly puzzled.

"When was the last time you had a hug?" Trevelyan asked, which seemed to completely catch him off guard.

Solas' brow furrowed. "I..."

Not waiting for him to answer, Evelyn shifted to her knees and slipped her arms around his neck, holding him in a loose embrace. Several heartbeats past before Solas tentatively returned her hold, and Trevelyan silently swore she'd never mention how his hands slightly trembled as they pressed against her back. Figuring he may never allow his guard down again, Trevelyan decided to press a little more, and tightened her grip. Giving Solas the type of hug she'd give Dorian, Varric or Josephine. Much to her surprise, Solas didn't hesitate to wrap his arms more firmly around her, almost squeezing her. Evelyn felt him inhale slowly, before releasing the breath and his hold on her. Taking her cue, Trevelyan settled back on her haunches, patiently waiting for Solas to voice whatever thoughts or emotions she could see flittering across his face.

Instead, he gave a polite, if a little embarrassed, cough. "We should get back to your training," Solas stated neutrally, his gaze not quite meeting hers.

Evelyn couldn't help but smile warmly at him. She still had no idea why he held himself apart from everyone so much, but felt tonight was at least a step in the right direction. "Of course. Thank you for indulging me."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**This chapter was originally the second section of the seven chapter, and the theme was inspired by a KinkMeme prompt: I just love how hands in Inquisition finally aren't withered claws or weird sausages. In fact, I love it so much, that I'd like to see some interactions focusing on hands and fingers and wrists, with literally any ships and characters. Chapter title is inspired by the Carole King song of the same name, as I think it really fits with how I feel Trevelyan thinks about Solas.**


	30. Touch and Go

**Touch and Go**

Fighting back a yawn brought on from the lack of sleep, due to another late night of studying Rift magic, Trevelyan rushed across the lower courtyard. She barely stopped to wave a good morning greeting to the merchants that were bustling about. The sky was grey and the wind was biting, as she jogged up the stairs towards Cullen's new office. Pulling her cloak more firmly around herself, Evelyn hurried up the steps, hoping to get out of the cold as soon as possible. As she drew near the heavy oak door, Trevelyan could hear a frustrated groan from the other side. After giving a tentative knock, she popped her head around the door. She had expected to find the commander leaning over his desk pouring over reports, as he often did. Instead he was sat in his chair, head buried in his hands. Worried, Evelyn slipped into his office, firmly shutting the door behind her.

"Cullen?" she asked gently.

Trevelyan unclipped her cloak from around her neck, and discarded it as neatly as she could over one of the many stack of books that littered the floor. The commander moved his head slightly, wincing as he peeked in her direction. Shock that almost resembled horror flashed across his face, upon realising who it was.

"In...Inquisitor," he exclaimed shakily, as he hurriedly tried to stand.

Without preamble, Evelyn halted his rise, by resting her hand atop his shoulder. "Sit," she instructed.

A half smile tugged at her lips, as she pushed him back into his chair. After briefly checking nothing of important was on his desk, Trevelyan settled herself almost directly in front of him, her legs wanting to swing as they dangled over the edge.

"Come here," she beckoned.

Looking at her curiously, Cullen leant forward in his chair. Once he was close enough for her to reach, Trevelyan placed her hands either side of his head, gently beginning to massage slow circles around his temples. He looked utterly stunned, almost as surprised as when he'd seen her belly dancing the previous week.

"Inquisitor?"

"Evelyn," she corrected, her smile softening. "You trying to tell me you don't have giant dancing flamenco around your head?"

Cullen gave a huff of laughter. "Giant? Feels more like a dragon."

"Will you let me heal you?" Trevelyan asked cautiously.

She knew the commander was wary of magic, and even though she didn't know the reasons, Evelyn respected that. Still, she hoped Cullen would come to relax around, and maybe even trust, her in time. Despite how well he tried to school his face, it was evident the commander felt uncomfortable about the idea. His normally warm brown eyes were now wide and wary as he regarded her. Just as Trevelyan was about to retract the offer, Cullen nodded hesitantly. His strawberry blonde curls ticking Evelyn's fingers gently.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I won't be offended if you'd rather not." When Cullen nodded again, before letting his neck muscles go slack so his head hung forward, Evelyn couldn't help but smile. "If you get uncomfortable, just tell me, and I'll stop immediately," she promised, as she summoned her healing magic to her fingertips.

Whilst the soothing, pale green glow illuminated the dark room, Evelyn continued to gently massage Cullen's head. Carefully drawn circles moved away from his temples, and radiated along the rest of his scalp, stopping every so often to concentrate on a spot that drew a small, contented sound from the commander. Five minutes later, Evelyn gradually ended the spell, and slowly withdrew her hands.

"That feels much better," Cullen smiled a little sheepishly.

He leant back more comfortably in his chair. Well... until his movement is suddenly stopped, that is, and a grimace of pain painted itself clearly on his handsome face. Trevelyan watched as the commander gingerly rolled his neck, wincing with each small movement. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Evelyn slipped off the desk.

"Off," she commanded, wrapping her knuckles against the solid silverite of his armour.

"Ev... Evelyn?" Cullen stammered, a very evident blush creeping up his neck.

Shaking her head, Trevelyan chuckled. "As tempting as it is, I'm not going to jump you," she teased. "But I can't give you a shoulder rub through all this metal."

Cullen swallowed audibly, making it difficult for Evelyn not to giggle. The commander seemed to be having some sort of internal debate, if his furrowed brow was any indication, though eventually he nodded.

"Thank you for this," he said, his tone barely a whisper.

"I'd be a pretty poor healer if I didn't help," Evelyn stated.

Which was true. When her magic had first been discovered, Grandma Rosa had drilled it into her that a mage's job was to help people. It was merely an inconsequential bonus to Evelyn, that she would be getting to run her hands over some of Cullen's muscles. And once the commander had shrugged out of his over cloak, Trevelyan started helping unbuckle his armour. Which earned her a surprised yet questioning look.

"I do have brothers," Evelyn grinned. "Older ones too, so I often had to play squire to them, before..."

She trailed off, doubting she needed to finish the sentence. Both knew she had grown up in the circle. Neither said anything more, whilst Cullen set his curiass and back guard on the floor along with his pauldrons, rerebraces and gauntlets. That left only a thin cotton tunic covering his upper half. Trevelyan couldn't help smiling affectionately whilst shaking her head.

"Dare I ask what the lady finds so amusing?" the commander asked, a faint smirk on his lips. Which combined with his scar, made Cullen look incredibly sexy. Even more so than usual.

"How do you tolerate wearing that all the time?" Evelyn asked, genuinely perplexed as she moved to stand behind him. "Maker, you're so stiff!" she gasped, beginning to knead the taught muscles of Cullen's shoulders. The blush that had begun to dissipate, once again became more than visible, alerting Trevelyan to her unintended innuendo. "Pervert!" she laughed, lightly swatting the side of his head.

"I... um..."

Whatever the commander was intending to say was lost to a contented sounding groan, as Evelyn continued to massage his tense muscles. Systemically, she worked up both sides of his neck, before smoothing out in long, fluid strokes to his shoulders. She repeated the movements, earning her another appreciative groan, before her hands skimmed over the front of his shoulders and began sweeping motions from his chest and up his throat, to his chin. With a contented sigh, Cullen settled his head back, coming to rest against Trevelyan's breasts, not that she minded. It wasn't like he was rubbing his face in them, after all. Except, at that precise moment, the door that opened towards the rotunda was flung open.

"Cullen, I was wondering if..." Dorian came to an abrupt halt, regarding them with a fleeting look of shock, before he settled himself against the door frame. "Well, well, well..." he practically purred, a perfectly groomed eyebrow arching in amusement. "Should I be jealous?"

The commander turned a truly wonderful shade of red, though Trevelyan merely chuckled, giving Cullen's shoulder's one last squeeze.

Evelyn grinned at her best friend. "Perhaps."

Grabbing her cloak as she moved around the desk, Trevelyan eyes remained locked with Dorian's, challenging, as she walked up to him. Her fellow mage barely made enough room for her to squeeze past him, and out the door. Evelyn's breasts dragged across his chest as she did.

"You minx," Dorian teased, turning his head to watch her walk away.

"You love it," Evelyn called back over her shoulder, wrapping her cloak around herself as she hurried towards the rotunda.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the last section of the seventh chapter. Chapter title, but not the theme, is inspired by the Cars song of the same name... Really, I just couldn't resit writing a chapter focusing on Trevelyan getting her hands on Cullen, even if it's only through his shirt!**


	31. Like a Friend

**Like a Friend**

When Solas failed to show for yet another meal, Trevelyan decided enough was enough. She well understood that the elf was still grieving for his friend. After all, only a week had passed since they had returned from the Exalted Plains. But that didn't mean he could neglect vital things he needed to attend to, like eating. Since returning, Solas had wielded solitude like a barrier, and enough was enough. Varric gave Trevelyan a knowing smile as she rose from the bench, catching her wrist gently.

"Go easy on Chuckles," he requested.

"Don't worry, Handsome. I'm not planning to hurl a fireball at him," Evelyn teased, leaning down to kiss the dwarf on the cheek.

"If you think it is appropriate, give Solas our condolences," Josephine interjected, backed up by Leliana's nod of agreement.

Neither women knew the true extent of what had happened out on the plains, only that one of the elf's friends had died. Trevelyan had worked hard to keep it that way. Her reports had mentioned a fight with a demon, but she had taken pains to make sure it wasn't revealed that Solas' friend was the spirit that had become corrupted. The only ones who knew besides herself, were Varric, Dorian and Blackwall. All of whom had accompanied them to the Exalted Plains, and had given an oath not to speak about it to anyone.

"I will," she agreed.

Trevelyan smiled sweetly at Cullen as she passed him entering the hall, unsurprised that the commander was late for dinner as usual. Without preamble, Evelyn entered the rookery tower, pausing only to shut the door that gave Solas' rotunda privacy from the main hall. Turning round, she walked straight into the man himself. The elf's hands coming to rest on Evelyn's hips as he steadied her from the collision.

"Inquisitor. I was... do you have a moment?" Solas asked, sounding hesitant.

"Of course," Trevelyan smiled in reply. Though her brow soon furrowed, once she noticed the elf seemed more uncomfortable. "Would you prefer to go somewhere more private?" she asked, acutely aware that even though Solas' had claimed the rotunda for himself, he only achieved complete privacy late at night.

"My thanks," he replied, moving to open the door for her.

Without hesitation, Evelyn led him through the hall towards her own quarters, nodding at Dorian who raised a hand in greeting. Wilfully, she ignored the hushed whispers and judgemental looks from the Orlesian nobles as they past. Though on more that one occasion, Trevelyan could feel the iron grip she had on her control waver, flames threatening the escape her fingertips as they overheard several rude and obnoxious comments. Beside her, Solas simply remained silent, keeping his head held high as they walked. However, a final comment once they had reached the dais that separate the throne from the rest of the hall, finally undid Evelyn's calm demeanour.

"Do you see that?" one masked Orlesian woman asked her companion.

The masked man sniffed disdainfully. "The Inquisitor can do better than bedding an _elf_."

Disgust dripped off the word 'elf' and frazzled Trevelyan's patience. Without even thinking, she rounded on the bigot, grabbing him by the ruff of his incredibly flouncy shirt, and bodily dragged the idiot towards her. An audible hush settled over the entire hall, and it was only the fact that all eyes were on her at that moment, that stopped Trevelyan from setting the pompous git alight. However, that didn't stop tendrils of her fire magic to begin to weave themselves around her body, as she glowered at the repulsive man.

"Solas has more worth in his little finger, than you could ever wish to possess," Trevelyan practically growled. "And take this as a warning, be _very_ careful with what you say about my friends."

With that, she pushed the masked man away from her, before turning on her heel. The brief look of surprise on Solas' face was not lost on Evelyn, however she merely linked her arm through his, and pulled him towards the door that led to her tower. As they walked together, both painfully aware of the stunned silence they were leaving behind, Solas' posture remained tall and refined. But Evelyn had a feeling that her friend felt less than comfortable with being the centre of attention. Where as most would see the way he held himself as confident, she had learnt to recognise when her was tense. And right now, Solas radiated it. It wasn't until Trevelyan had shut the door that separated her tower from the hall behind them, that his posture began to relax. Though it the silent climb up the winding steps that led to Evelyn's chamber, that Solas finally seem a little more at ease.

"Thank you," he stated.

However, Evelyn wasn't sure if he was thanking her for giving them somewhere private to talk, or for defending him down in the hall. In truth, she was starting to feel a little embarrassed for her outburst. Not for what she had said, for Evelyn had meant every word. However, it wasn't like the time she had punched one of the kitchen porters for bad mouthing Sera. That had been private, only herself, Sera and the hapless man as witnesses. The incident in the hall had been a lot more public, and Trevelyan could guess that she had just caused a lot of extra worth for Josephine and Leliana. However, as Solas began to lead the way towards her favourite balcony, the one that afforded stunning views of the whole valley below, Evelyn pushed the concern out of her mind. What was done, was done. And the ass hole had deserved it.

"Anytime" Trevelyan replied. "You know, if you ever need some peace, you're more than welcome to hide up here."

Although it was true that the room was supposed to be Evelyn's own little haven, somewhere she could escape her role as Inquisitor, and one that Josephine had appointed spectacularly... complete with a four poster bed adorned with thick red drapes, that was almost a replica of the one in Evelyn's bedroom, back at her parent's estate. However, more often than not, Trevelyan found herself falling asleep in the main hall, next to one of fires with Varric. Or in a library chair, cuddled up with Dorian. And since Evelyn rarely made it to her own room, she figure that one of her friends might as well make use of this amazing space on a more frequent basis.

Solas looked a little surprised at her offer, before unexpectedly asking: "What were you like, before the anchor?"

Trevelyan was taken aback by the abrupt change of topic, and found herself looking at her hand. She snorted in amusement at her actions. _'Not like it's suddenly disappeared'_ she mused, smiling and shaking her head, before meeting the elf's questioning gaze.

"Has it affected you? Changed you in anyway? Your mind, you morals, your... spirit?" he pressed, though his tone was gentle and respectful.

Evelyn didn't need to think on her answer, for it was a subject she had already discussed at length with both Cassandra and Leliana. "I don't believe so."

"Ah." Was all Solas replied. Though his stormy eyes swiftly cast themselves downwards, fixing intently onto a faint defect in the stone floor, as he leant his back against the balustrade.

"Why do you ask?" Evelyn moved to stand beside him, opting to lean her forearms against the rough stone railing, so she could enjoy the breath-taking view.

"You show a wisdom I have not seen since... since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the fade," Solas admitted. "You are not what I expected."

For a moment, the notion to wonder if the elf had thought her to host to a benevolent spirit crossed Evelyn's mind, before his last few words sunk in. They caused her to smile. Solas had said something very similar the night they had share body heat to keep warm. At the time she had joked about her being human, he had retorted that it had been because she was a circle mage. Now, there seemed something more to it, something deeper than trying to suss one another out. However, Trevelyan still wasn't sure what it was.

"I don't consider myself different from anyone else, not really," she confessed. And it was true, despite the mark on her hand that let her seal rifts, Evelyn really didn't see herself as different. Certainly not from anyone else who had joined the Inquisition at any rate.

Solas frowned as he turned to her. "Perhaps not in the form of your body, no. But you have shown a subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I know of your people."

Evelyn smiled at him, touched by what she knew was meant as a compliment. "Thank you," she replied, managing to bite back a light hearted quip of: "I try". Still, she didn't feel her actions warranted this unexpected praise, and her gaze wandered back to the horizon as she straightened her posture. "Though I'm just one part of this team, Solas. What about Cassandra, or Leliana?" she asked, consciously refraining from mentioning Cullen. She didn't need to add dealing with the way her stomach twisted whenever she thought of the commander, to this potential minefield of a conversation.

"Cassandra separates matters of faith from those of the world, and she above all should understand how limited that is," Solas replied. "Leliana has a brilliant mind, but her faith was damaged. To her, it is all a game of tactics now." As much as Trevelyan hated to admit it, his words rang very true. "But not you," Solas continued.

Unexpectedly, he tilted her chin so their eyes met. For a moment they regarded each other, and the air between them almost charged. It left Evelyn feeling utterly confused, and her heart beating just a little faster than usual. There was a look in Solas; eyes that she just couldn't read, no matter how hard she tried. If he were any other man, Trevelyan could imagine where this was leading, but with the elf... she honestly had no clue what his intentions were, or the direction this was going. He was still an enigma most of the time.

"So what does this mean, Solas?" she asked cautiously.

Adding the unusualness of the moment, Solas gently ran his thumb along her lower lip. It was the action his future self had done in the nightmare of Redcliffe. Trevelyan vaguely remembered him doing the same just before she had left Haven's chantry to fight Corypheus, and again when they walked in a memory of the destroyed village. This time however, Solas' eyes snapped away from hers, and he quickly stepped away.

"It means that I respect you deeply, Inquisitor. And I have disturbed you enough for one evening." With that, the elf made a hasty retreat. He paused only to offer her a formal bow, before he exited her chamber.

Beyond confused, Evelyn ran her hands through her cropped red hair before sighing. _'What in Thedas?'_ she wondered, making her way over to her bed. For some reason, Trevelyan found herself suddenly very tired. _'Maybe a nap will help?' _Kicking off her boots, she made herself comfortable, pulling her favourite blanket up to keep the chill of the crisp mountain air at bay, and settled down to rest.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title is inspired by the Pulp song of the same name. It doesn't exactly fit the feel, mainly because the chapter is from Trevelyan's PoV, but I think it somehow fits how Solas would be feeling. This chapter was the first section of the eighth chapter, it was also originally part of a oneshot called: ****A Night to Remember.  
It may come as no surprise that this chapter in particularly is dedicated to my favourite Solas fangirl, Lady Velvet C Peterson!  
The basis of this chapter was that even though Trevelyan cannot romance Solas in game, a lot of the scenes (such as the balcony scene) still comes across as if he has a lot more that he wants to say. Also thinking that if he would be confused by his feelings for an Elven Inquisitor, having them for a human would be even more confusing.**


	32. Hungry Like the Wolf

**Hungry Like the Wolf**

"Solas?" Evelyn called out softly, as she entered the rotunda.

Though it was now very late, Trevelyan doubted the elf would be asleep. Their conversation on the balcony earlier was weighing on her mind, and she still worried he was struggling with his friend's death.

Instead of answering verbally, Solas strode purposefully towards her, making Trevelyan back up until she was pressed against the smooth, plastered wall. He was close, so close, that Evelyn could feel his body heat radiating off him, and smell his unique scent. Something akin to incense and wood smoke. Pleasant, heady and earthy. Solas' hand was warm as it cupped the side of her face, his thumb grazing along her cheekbone. Her heart began to beat furiously, as an unwarranted heat pooled in her, tension and butterflies fluttering around her stomach. She was so surprised by the usually reserved elf's actions, her mind failed to form coherent thought. Her verdant eyes that had been locked onto his unwavering, stormy grey gaze, fell to his lips. In that instant, Evelyn realised she wanted him. Badly... and wasn't that confusing.

Solas closed the none existent distance between them, his body flush against hers, effectively pinning Trevelyan to the cold wall. She bit back a moan of pleasure. His mouth was a hair's breadth from hers, and his warm breath skittered over the skin of her cheek where his hand had been moments before. It now moved purposely down her side, making Evelyn tremble slightly. Solas' fingers skimmed across her sensitive ribs, before coming to rest possessively on her hip, whilst the other gripped her shoulder.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he stated. But the words sounded laboured, forced. As if he spoke them through gritted teeth.

Her eyes, that Trevelyan couldn't remember closing, snapped open. Instantly looking into his steely gaze once more. There was a hunger in the grey depths of his eyes, but also wariness and apprehension. As if he too was uncertain to the propriety of... this. And this, whatever _this_ was, was certainly unwise at the very least.

Swallowing thickly past the lump that had formed in her throat, Evelyn's mind flitted to the image of Cullen. She cared for him, deeply, much more than she wisely should. But he was always so professional, often distant. There was hardly an instance where the commander persona dropped, to reveal the man underneath. Much to her disdain, Trevelyan had spent more than on night tossing and turning, replaying interactions between them. She fretted that perhaps his experience as a Templar would never allow him to see past the fact she was a mage...

Then there was Solas. Who's attention, though completely unexpected, was plainly evident as his body pressed against hers. The elf was charming and attractive, in his own way. However their friendship could often be tumultuous. They clashed almost as much as they agreed, his lightening to her fire. Despite enjoying his company and their heated debates, Evelyn had never considered him in this way. Not even the night she had lay with her naked skin pressed against his, as he recovered from his fall into the icy river. After waking up in each others arms, all those months ago, nothing had been spoken about the incident. Bar laughing at, or ignoring, Varric's playful jibes in the immediate days after.

Taking all that into consideration, the confusing situation began to feel wrong. _'Would I be using him?'_ she wondered, despite being fully aware that Solas had instigated this, when he had backed her against the wall. Evelyn felt torn, unsure if she should follow her body's instincts or her overworked mind. Closing her eyes, an unbidden tear escaped, leaving a burning path as it slowly slid down her cheek.

"Forgive me," Solas uttered, almost against her lips. Regret, and perhaps a hint of disappointment, coloured his voice as he withdrew from her.

The chill that was left as he pulled away, was almost unbearable. Without any conscious thought on her part, Evelyn found herself leaning forward, barely brushing her lips against his in a whispered hint of a kiss. Cautiously, she opened her eyes to find him regarding her intently. Her own uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. Blinking, another unwanted tear fell down Evelyn's cheek.

"I don't know if I can give what you want..." she began.

With an intensity that surprised her, Solas closed the distance once more, pressing harder against her. On instinct her legs parted slightly, allowing his thigh to press between hers. The feel of his lithe body against hers, had Trevelyan stifling another moan.

"Tonight," he stated, his voice low and rough.

Solas' long fingers moved to tangle in Evelyn's cropped hair, as he rested his forehead against hers. His eyes burrowed into her soul, as he waited for her response. The pounding in her chest intensified, and the heat that had been pooling began to spread.

_'This is a really bad idea'_ her brain warned.

However, Trevelyan's hands slid up his arms before cupping his face. Intently, Evelyn searched Solas' eyes for... she wasn't sure what. Though she found a vulnerability in his gaze that she hadn't expected. In that moment, Trevelyan realised Solas was fully expecting to be rejected, which might explain his sudden retreat earlier on. He was just as confused as she was by their attraction, though Solas had more to lose, since he had initiated this. Not for the first time, Evelyn wondered how much of Solas' life had been spent alone. She may not feel the same about him, as she did for Cullen. But Trevelyan cared deeply for Solas, and respected him. Certain she had done nothing to lead him on, and knowing that he has instigated the situation, Trevelyan decided there were far worse things she could do, than indulge in a night of mutual enjoyment with a trusted friend.

"Tonight," she agreed.

Without hesitation, Solas' lips crashed into hers. Hot and unyielding. Ravenous and ferocious. One of his strong hands slid to the nape of Evelyn' neck, the other cradled her face, effectively cutting off any chance of retreat. Not that Trevelyan was inclined to withdraw. She met Solas' fierce kiss with equal fervour, one hand twisting the neck of his woollen tunic, as the other gripped his bicep. When his tongue demanded entrance, she gave it willingly, unable to mask her hum of approval as his tongue warred with hers. It amused Evelyn to realise he faintly tasted of tea, something she knew he drank yet despised. However, a subtle movement on Solas' part that brought him closer to her core, chased away such thoughts. IT brought her mind solely to focus on the growing need they obviously both shared. Panting, Trevelyan broke the kiss, tilting her head out his reach as he went to kiss her again, choosing instead to run her tongue along the length of his tapered ear.

_'Thank you Zevran'_ she thought ruefully, remembering the Antivan elf she had encountered eleven years previously. It was during one of the rare occasions Trevelyan had been allowed out of the Ostwick circle, to attend one of her family's functions. At the time, Zevran had apparently been making his was from Antiva to Ferelden. She had never seen him again, but it had been one heck of a night.

Even though Solas shivered at her attention, he quickly retaliated, planting searing kisses along the length of her neck. Evelyn practically writhed against him as his teeth lightly grazed over her pulse point, only vaguely noticing his canines were sharper than she might have expected. Solas' appreciation for her movements were more than obvious, as he pressed harder against her, one hand sliding to cup her rear. His evident desire and enjoyment heightened Evelyn's own arousal, and she roughly grabbed his collar, pulling him in for another bruising kiss. There was nothing loving or gentle about their actions, every move was driven by passion and need. Neither cared if they were acting like teenagers, grinding against each other, grasping at each other's clothing.

How they found themselves from being pressed against the painted wall, eager but fully clothed, to lying naked on the wooden platform that raised Solas' sleeping mat from the rest of the room, Trevelyan wasn't sure. Nor did she care, especially as the elf held himself above her, propped up on well defined arms. His body hadn't changed from the night they had spent huddled together for warmth, but now Evelyn could indulge herself, run her hands along the toned plains and sinuous muscles.

"You have a heck of a body," she stated wryly, echoing her words from that night, months ago.

"You are rather pleasing to the eye yourself," Solas retorted, evidently remembering that night just as clearly.

The look he now gave her, as she lay naked on his bed, was predatorial. And there was something in his stormy eyes that looked almost lupine. Vaguely, Trevelyan wondered if she should be wary, especially as she felt the faint prickles of lightening ghost along her skin. Involuntarily, she found herself tensing as Solas' hands tangled in her hair again, gently forcing her head back and exposing the column of her neck.

"Atisha, Falon. Ma' eth'an era," he whispered in her ear, before kissing down her neck.

Evelyn had no real idea what Solas had said, having only recognised the word for friend, but somehow it made her relax. Smiling ruefully, she captured his face in her hands, pulling him level with her and kissed him. Hard. Gently, she bit his bottom lip as she wrapped a leg around his waist. The position made his arousal all the more apparent. She arched her back, allowing herself to rub against the length of him, which caused his breathing to hitch.

"Problem?" Evelyn asked innocently, as she moved against him again.

"Tease," Solas growled in reply, before kissing her harshly.

That kiss ignited her, and Evelyn found herself gripping the back of his neck in order to deepen it. In response, he pinned her free hand above her head as he ground against her. It was maddening, being pinned by his weight. Trevelyan didn't want teasing, didn't want foreplay, she wanted him. Now. When their kiss broke they stared at each other, almost in challenge, and the hunger in Solas' eye must have been mirrored in her own. For in one swift movement, he hilted inside her. Gasping at the delicious fullness, Trevelyan's back bowed, and she arched against him.

For a moment, Solas remained still, a slight look of concern in his eyes as the hand not pinning her wrist, cupped her face. Since Evelyn knew, full well, she was aroused enough to prevent any discomfort, she merely pulled him in for another fevered kiss. Seeming to have his assurance, Solas began to move. However, the gentle thrusts were completely at odds to the passion that had gripped them since the moment Trevelyan had stepped into the room. One glance at Solas' face as she broke their kiss, told Evelyn that he was holding back. The effort to remain gentle was clearly evident in the set of his jaw. On a hunch, she raked her nails down his back, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to leave a faint mark. Her actions caused his pace to stutter.

"I'm not going to break," she whispered.

Then, deciding to use his surprise, Trevelyan seized the opportunity to switch their positions. Deftly, she rolled them, ending with Solas laying flat on his back, still hilted inside her, as she straddled him. Never one to be shy about her body, Evelyn cupped her own breasts as she rocked her hips forward, drawing a ragged groan from Solas. His hands quickly joined hers, as her hips moved in a figure of eight.

Soon, their pace increased, forcing Evelyn to brace her hands on Solas' chest as his thrust became more powerful. Each one causing her to moan in appreciation, as he hit just the right spot. Very vaguely, she wondered how someone who spent so much time in the Fade, had become such of proficient lover. Though Evelyn gave up any speculation as Solas' thumb found the bundle of nerves at her apex. With a sudden intensity that she had not experienced before, Trevelyan found herself close to the edge. She was almost relieved when Solas altered their position, pushing himself up, so he was seated instead of laying down. It allowed Evelyn to cling to him almost desperately. Solas kissed her collarbone, neck, jaw and cheek, before his lips found hers. Never once did he alter the pace, as he rocked up into her, or worked her sensitive nub.

"Garas," he murmured against her lips, and Evelyn found herself undone.

She gasped and shuddered against him, basking in her own pleasure as he held her tightly, finding his release. As his breathing even out, Solas gently nuzzled the side of her throat, planting light kisses along the junction where neck met shoulder. Cupping her face, he stroked Evelyn's cheek with his thumb before kissing her gently, almost sweetly.

"Ma serannas na enansal, lethallan," Solas whispered as he lay back down, pulling Evelyn with him.

"You know, you're going to have to teach me some elvish," she stated, pillowing her cheek on his shoulder.

"If you wish," he agreed, running a hand through her tousled her. He smiled at her, almost sadly, before kissing her tenderly. "Perhaps when you... wake up."

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title is inspired by the Duran Duran song of the same name. This chapter was the middle section of the eighth chapter, it was also originally part of a oneshot called: ****A Night to Remember. Inspiration for the chapter is from the fact a lot of the scene with Solas, even with a Trevelyan inquisitor, seem like he wants to say more than her does, which snowballed into this. Yes, the lupine eyes, sharp canines and the nuzzling are all supposed to hit that Solas is the Dread Wolf. And for myself, Zevran needed to make an appearance. I mean, why wouldn't he meet the Inquisitor before he reached Ferelden and met the warden?!**

**Elvish translations:  
'Atisha, Falon. Ma' eth'an era' translates to 'Peace, friend. You are safe in this dream place.'  
'Garas' means 'Come'  
'Ma serannas na enansal, lethallan' translates to 'Thank you for your gift, lethallan'  
'Lethallan' is a term used to refer to someone you know well/are close to.**


	33. Another Night

**Just Another Night**

With a start, Trevelyan awoke. Confused, she glanced around. Evelyn took in her familiar four poster bed, and the bright morning light that shone through the open windows. It only added to her confusion. The chirping of the birds on her balcony told her it was still fairly early, probably around breakfast time.

_'It was a dream?_' Evelyn mused.

She threw off the blanket and pulled on her boots. Hurriedly, she went to her basin, splashing her face with the frigid water, before quickly cleaning her teeth.

_'Was it really a dream?' _she wondered, her mind flitting back to the previous times she had met Solas in the Fade.

Shaking her head, Trevelyan decided to mull things over breakfast... or let herself get distracted by Varric' and Sera's antics. She wasn't too fussy either way. So she made her way to the main hall, surprised to see the majority of her companions gathered around one long oak table.

_'Must be later than I thought' _she realised, returning Blackwall's wave as she collected a plate of cold cut meats, and a few slices of bread from the serving table.

"Hey boss, you're up late," Bull declared as she neared the table.

Evelyn smiled warmly at Solas, as he made room for her to sit beside him on the low bench. "Did you sleep well, lethallan?" he asked innocently, returning her smile.

The use of the elven word caused Evelyn to raise an eyebrow slightly. _'Not just a dream them' _she surmised.

"Wonderfully," she replied cheerfully, certain that no one other than Solas would understand. And the elf's answering smile told Evelyn that he did.

"Sleep? Ha! Who were you doing last night, Trevi? You're smiling way too much for just sleep," Sera giggled. "Not Cully Wully was it?" the elven archer added loudly, just as the commander entered the hall. "Because he's alright... if you like those parts."

There was a drawn out moment, in which Evelyn hoped a rift would open up right under her, as Cullen stood staring, turning an interesting shade of red. Then the table erupted into a frenzy of activity, starting with Cassandra speaking to Sera in a low voice, no doubt reprimanding her. Blackwall and Bull each threw Trevelyan a respectful nod, before ushering a stunned Cullen out of the hall, citing a pressing need to go over training rosters for the recruits. Dorian and Josephine started lively debates with a group of nobles who sat at the adjacent table. And Varric began a rousing tale about how he first met Leliana, with the bard's help of course, that drew in the rest of the unwitting audience. Subtly, Solas squeezed Evelyn's hand under the table. The unexpected act of comfort surprised her.

"Should he not return your feelings, for whatever inexplicable reason, know that he is a fool, lethallan," he told her.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, and more than a little guilty, Evelyn smiled almost shyly at him. "Thank you," she replied whole heartedly, standing to make her escape whilst everyone else was occupied. "For last night as well. It was unforgettable," she whispered in his ear, before place a soft kiss on his cheek.

Without waiting for his reply, Trevelyan hurried towards the library, hoping Fiona might be game for hurling some fireballs around. All in the name of research and practice, of course.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title is inspired by the Real McCoy song of the same name, listen to the lyrics, and you should understand. This chapter was the last section of the eighth chapter, it was also originally part of a oneshot called: A Night to Remember. The main idea comes from the fact Solas admits that he finds things easier in the Fade. ****Elvish translations: 'Lethallan' is a term used to refer to someone you know well/are close to.**


	34. Burn

**Burn**

Thump. Thwak. Whack. Thump. Thwak. Whack. Thump. Thwak. Whack.

Trevelyan took two steps back, twirling her staff in figures of eight in front of her, before catching it in her right hand. She turned her whole body in a complete circle, setting her staff revolving in a fast paced palm spin above her head, before catching it in her left hand. With her left hand holding her staff palm up, her right hand tightened around the grip palm down, and again she twirled her staff in figures of eight before stepping forward again.

Thump. Thwak. Whack. Thump. Thwak. Whack. Thump. Thwak. Whack.

Evelyn took another two steps back, spun her staff around her right wrist before catching it with her left hand, her palm facing down. Quickly, she brought her staff behind her back, and let the momentum pull her body around in a tight spin, before her right hand closed around the grip. She twirled her staff in a figure of eight in front of herself, before tossing it around her neck, catching it with her heft hand, then stepping forward again.

"I think that training dummy is well and truly beaten, sweetheart," Dorian called out to her, in his rich, accented voice.

Grinning, Trevelyan turned to watch her best friend's approach. "Come to offer your services?" she teased.

"But of course, now that Hawke's left for Crestwood, who else are you going to ask? Your apostate hobo?" he retorted.

"Dorian..." Evelyn chastised, leaning her weight against her staff.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, entering the small training square, that had been set up behind the tavern. "I'll play nice, I swear it."

"If you don't, I'll hide your moustache wax," she threatened, beginning to stalk around him.

Her fellow mage gasped dramatically as he threw off his cloak. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Evelyn replied with a feral grin, effortlessly adopting an offensive stance.

Without warning, Trevelyan launched forward, twisting her staff back and up, before bringing it down with both hands towards Dorian's head. He blocked with ease, using his own staff to stop her downward attack. With a gentle force, he pushed her backwards. They circled each other, neither being able to hide their grins as they stared the other down. They attacked at the same instance, both swinging their staffs from waist height, up to the other's face. Their weapons met with an almighty whack, fire flaring slightly from both staffs.

Dorian stepped back, before moving to thrust his staff blade towards Evelyn's mid section. On instinct, she jumped backwards, blocking the move before retreating several steps as Dorian advanced. The entire time, both mages twirled the staffs. Small flares erupted as they crossed each other, another loud whack echoing across the courtyard. With his greater reach, Dorian managed to trap Trevelyan's staff against the ground, before swinging his own towards her head. Evelyn's flexibility was better, and she ducked just in time. But then she had to force herself to flip backwards, as Dorian swung his staff blade towards her feet. As she landed, he thrust towards her face, forcing Trevelyan to block with her staff once again.

Bracing herself, Evelyn managed to push Dorian off balance with a less than gentle shove, and as their staffs clashed together again, sparks showered down on the both. Trevelyan yelped in surprise, as Dorian grunted. Both hurriedly backed away from the other, effectively ended their sparring duel. A round of applause alerted them for the first time, that they had gathered an audience.

"I didn't know staffs could be used like that," Nadia stated from her spot in the crowd.

"It is rare now, da'len, but once it was common practise," Solas replied, before stepping into the ring. "I wonder if you would do me the honour, my lady."

"For you Solas, of course," Evelyn grinned in reply.

"Flirting with the hobo apostate, what ever would our charming commander think?" Dorian drawled, his voice low enough that only Trevelyan could hear.

"Hair oil and moustache wax," she hissed, merely earning a wicked chuckle from her best friend.

As Dorian left the ring, Solas began to circle her, which she returned in kind. Once again, Evelyn stalked slowly around her opponent, though was unable to help adding a hit of sway to her stride. Since their night in the Fade, Evelyn had found herself flirting with Solas quite often. The elf smiled at her, almost appreciatively. A whistle that sounded awfully like Bull's came from the crowd, making Evelyn smirk slightly, though her gaze never left Solas' stormy depths. However, before either of them could strike, a messenger came barrelling into the ring.

"My lady Inquisitor," the boy panted. "Lady Montilyet and Mistress Nightingale request your presence in the war room."

Fighting back the urge to sigh, Evelyn forced a smile for the boy. "Thank you." Beaming, he ran back off, leaving her to chuckle and shake her head after him. At that moment, Solas caught her eye.

"Another time?" he asked, coming to stand beside her. The back of his hand barely touching hers. as they gripped their respective staffs.

"I'll hold you to it," Evelyn promised.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Hats off to those who can spot the Mass Effect 2 quote hidden in this chapter! Title of the chapter is inspired by the Ellie Goulding song of the same name. ****Trevelyan's staff techniques were by Bojutsu &amp; the use of a bo staff, as were the sparring with Dorian. This was originally the first section of chapter nine.**


	35. Material Girl

**Material Girl**

With a contented sigh, Trevelyan sipped her excellently spiced mulled wine, and settled herself back into one of Josephine's plush armchairs. The roaring fire added an extra cosy element to their, less than conventional, 'war' meeting. Leliana sat opposite Evelyn, in the second armchair, though the spy master had positioned herself so she had a clear view of the office door. Ever the vigilant one. Josephine on the other hand, had opted to sit on the luxurious fur rug, that graced the floor beside the hearth.

"So, at the urging of Grand Duchess Florianne, the Empress is holding a ball," the ambassador explained. "Absolutely _everyone_ will be there. During the festivities, Celene will be meeting for peace talks with the usurper, Duke Gaspard, and Ambassador Briala."

"The assassin _must_ be hiding within one of these factions," Leliana reasoned.

"What do we know about Duke Gaspard?" Evelyn asked.

Without preamble, Josephine handed her a sheaf of notes, clearly written by Cullen's hand. "The man who would have been Emperor," she explained, citing the parchment. "Celene's cousin who was first in line to inherit the throne when Emperor Florian died. Celene out manoeuvred him. She won over the Council of Heralds, who hold authority over title disputes. She became Empress, and he a general in the Imperial army. He's well loved by the troops, he's also a chevalier. Most of their order sided with him, when he turned on the Empress."

Taking another sip of her wine, Evelyn nodded her head slowly, briefly skimming over the commander's notes in case Josephine had missed a detail. Which she had not. "Who is this Ambassador Briala?" she questioned.

Leliana lent forward in her chair, almost conspiratorially. "Ambassador in name only. She has organised the elves of Halamshiral into an underground army. The Empress invited her to the peace talks, in a bid to gain elves' alliance in the war. That would be scandal enough, without the rumour that Briala is a jilted lover of Celene's. A personal grudge, and a network of saboteurs at her command. It's a promising lead."

"You sound impressed," Trevelyan teased the spy master, who smiled cryptically in response. Shaking her head, Evelyn turned her attention to Josephine. "Tell me everything we know about the Empress."

"Empress Celene is a renowned diplomat and reformer," the ambassador explained. "She works tirelessly to secure peace for the empire. Unfortunately, many Orlesians view her peace as complacency. She has yet to name an heir, leaving the future of the empire in doubt if anything happens to her. Especially when the next in line is her cousin Gaspard, who has made few friends on the Council of Heralds."

"Celene is surrounded at all times by countless guards, courtiers, servants and vassals," Leliana interjected. "What better place for an assassin to hide, than the Empress' own household."

"You're both looking forward to this," Evelyn suddenly laughed, eyeing the other two women.

Leliana graced them with one of her rare, enigmatic smiles. "It has been many years since I was involved with the Grand Game, it will be exciting to be in that world again."

"Nothing to do with the shoes?" Trevelyan retorted.

The spy master gave a happy sigh. "Oh, I do love shoes," she agreed wistfully.

"Which brings me to our next topic," Josephine smiled, handing Evelyn another sheaf of parchment. "These are the designs for the Inquisition's outfits for the ball."

Trevelyan tried and failed not to scowl at the sketches. Despite the drawings depicting very stylish formal attire for the gentlemen, the stern red military blazers were nothing short of inappropriate for the women to attend in. One did not need to grow up a member of a noble family as she had, to know such a thing. One only had to look at the hideous dresses the Orlesian noblewomen wore to realise this. And she said as such, on both accounts.

"What did you have in mind then, _Lady_ Trevelyan?" Leliana asked slyly.

"A compromise," she replied, smirking. "The men will wear the uniforms, and cut a very dashing line through the pomp of the ball. I believe us ladies need to add a wow factor though, something to get the nobles talking, cause a stir." Evelyn paused for a moment, drumming her fingers against her now empty wine glass. "Keep the reds and blues of the uniforms, but translate it into gowns. Nothing froufrou, frilly or extravagant. They need to be elegant and easy to move in, since there's a high chance we could end up in a fight. I would imagine Lady Vivienne would have some ideas."

"That she would, my dear," the first enchanter stated as she strode through the door, unannounced. With a flourish, Vivienne produced a book of fabric swatches. "It just so happens that I sent for my personal tailor already, Monsieur Jean Bonheur Lacroix shall be here within the week."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Vivienne's tailor is named after three famous French fashion designers: Jean Paul Gaultier, Coco Chanel &amp; Christian Lacroix. This was originally the second section of chapter nine, and given the characters in the chapter, I couldn't resist naming it after the Madonna song of the same name.**


	36. Shall We Dance?

**Shall We Dance?**

Really, it had come as no surprise to Evelyn, that a new dress was hung on the front of her armoire. Even less surprising, was Nadia's explanation that Vivienne had sent the silken number as a prototype of her ball gown. The dress was a simple, elegant cut. A figure hugging, sweetheart bodice that tapered into a flowing, floor length skirt. It was intended to be worn without petticoats, for which Evelyn was eternally thankful for. This prototype was not made in the Inquisition's colours, instead it was a rich golden hue, with shimmering pieces of Serault glass sewn about the neckline and hemline alike. It was beautiful, and apparently reminded Nadia of dancing flames, leaving Trevelyan to wonder if her friends were purposefully highlighting her affinity to fire. Taking into account the outfit she had worn a few weeks prior, to showcase her Chasind heritage.

However, Evelyn had little time to ponder things, as she left the safety of her tower and stepped into the candle lit main hall. Thankfully, it was rather late in the evening, all the visiting nobles had been ushered away for the night, and the only people to witness her entrance was her inner circle and advisers. Despite growing up a daughter of House Trevelyan, with all the pomp, practises and wealth that entailed, Evelyn couldn't help the flutter of nerves as everyone that was gathered, turned to look at her. Once again, she had forgone her favoured make up, opting for golds and corals that complimented the dress. It was stupid, but Evelyn almost felt naked without her bold red lipstick.

The chatter that had been mingling with the soft, string music quickly died. There was a low whistle, that sounded like Varric, and a squeak that suspiciously sounded like Sera. Remembering the rigorous schooling of manners and decorum, all delivered with the scathing wit of her mother and Madame Shianna, Trevelyan stood erect. Her shoulders were rolled back, her chin held with dignity, and her hands loosely clasped in front of her. The very picture of ladylike refinement. With practised ease, Dorian sauntered over to her as she stepped from the dais. He bowed to her, in a debonair manner that was uniquely his own, and held out a hand to her. Slipping easily back into the role of refined noblewoman, Evelyn curtsied prettily, lifting the skirt of her golden dress as she did.

"You look simply ravishing, my dear," he complimented, kissing her hand.

"And naturally, you are the epitome of dashing," Trevelyan replied, as she appraised his fine, black velvet doublet with silver buttons and trim. "The very image of dangerous and sexy Tevinter."

"I knew there was a reason I kept you as my best friend," Dorian chuckled.

Without warning, he swept her onto the impromptu dance floor. Their hold was formal, dignified, as they twirled the intricate steps required for the Emperor Waltz. Constantly spinning, their hold would occasionally change. Evelyn's right hand resting on Dorian's shoulder, her left hand lifting her skirt. As his right hand slid from her upper back to hold her waist, his left arm outstretched elegantly. Then they'd return to formal hold, still spinning and twirling. Her smile was warm and genuine as she danced with her best friend. She couldn't remember enjoying a dance as much, and the evident affection in Dorian's eyes made it all the more special. As the sweeping melody came to an end, he gave her a low bow before kissing her hand again.

A ripple of applause sounded from their gathered audience, and if the impressed smile on Cassandra's face was any indication, the seeker had probably started it. Remembering her manners, Evelyn curtsied first to Dorian, and then to the rest of their friends. Ruefully, she realised she'd already curtsied more in the last ten minutes than she had for the last decade.

"Inquisitor, that was... tres magnifique," Leliana gushed.

"And you expect us to do that? You're joking, yeah?" Sera complained, crossing her arms over her chest and practically pouting.

"Not... exactly," Josephine answered cautiously, as she signalled the quartet to start up the next melody.

The next piece was a much more lively waltz, one that Evelyn recognised as being the aptly named: Second Waltz. Her eyes readily fell to Solas, who had also taken this seriously and dressed for the occasion. The elf wore a a long line, sleeveless dress coat of ring velvet, over the top of a highever weave, open neck shirt and a pair of darkened samite trews. This was paired with traditional elven leg wraps, and an expertly woven sash belt. In truth, he looked rather striking, and Trevelyan felt her heart flutter, inexplicably.

"Would you give me the pleasure of this dance, Master Solas?" Evelyn asked sweetly.

"I believe that would be my line, my lady," Solas answered.

There was a hint of a smirk tugging his lips, as he offered her his hand. Recollections of their night in the Fade flashed briefly in Evelyn's mind, causing her to smile impishly. Without a second thought, Trevelyan placed her hand in his, and sank into another curtsey. It was a mirror image of the ones she had given Dorian. However, this time there was an indignant cough behind her.

"You cannot possible curtsey to an elf, _Lady_ Trevelyan," Vivienne sniffed. "And it is nothing personal against the apostate, but you will be the talk of the ball for all the wrong reasons."

"See if I don't," Evelyn replied tartly, before gently pulling Solas onto the dance floor. "And Josephine, if you dare allow them to introduce Solas as a servant or the like..."

There was evidently enough venom and menace in her voice, that Leliana felt the need to step in. "Do not worry, Inquisitor. Perhaps the title of Arcane advisor or researcher would be suitable?"

"Researcher would be fine," Solas replied evenly, as he pulled Evelyn into a formal hold. His hand was almost possessive as it pressed against her upper back.

"Not quite like dancing in the snow," Evelyn whispered to him, almost wistfully.

For a moment, Solas' gaze softened, becoming almost affectionate, as he hummed his agreement. Then his expression became neutral again, as he started to lead Evelyn in the energetic waltz.

Their dance was much more fast passed then the one Trevelyan had shared with Dorian, with more swaying steps, and the rhythmic rise and fall of their movements as they spun. To Evelyn's delight, Blackwall led a surprised looking Cassandra onto the floor. The seeker had, for once, forgone her armour or training gear. She had actually opted to wear a dress for the rehearsal, much to Evelyn's delighted surprise. Though Cassandra's was a lot less ornate than Trevelyan's, simply being a shift of luxurious cotton that skimmed her athletic figure. The seeker still looked stunning.

The two women shared a smile as they twirled passed each other, both clearly recognising something in the other. The reluctant noblewoman, who disliked her titled, but could pull out the decorum and poise if the situation required it. It was Blackwall who was quite the unexpected marvel. The warden moving with purpose, command, and actual grace as he guided Cassandra through the dance. He also cut quite the figure, clad in a simple black shirt, and grey twill breeches.

"Your smile is most becoming, you will no doubt enchant many at the ball," Solas observed, his normal tone holding an undercurrent of amusement.

Evelyn couldn't help but scrunch up her nose at the thought. "Know any gods I can pray to that will allow me to dance only with my friends?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

"You do not like balls?" he asked, turning Evelyn in a perfect pivot before returning to formal hold.

"I'm not a fan of people I don't trust touching me," she admitted. "Too many nobles have grabby hands. I hated it so much growing up, that my parents decided I was only required to attend any functions for three hours, before I could slip out and hide with the servants."

Solas looked a little surprised at the revelation, and seemed about to ask a question, though appeared to think better of it. He smiled at her instead. "Then I am honoured, lethallan."

As the melody came to an end, he spun her one more time before bowing gallantly to her. Trevelyan dipped into another, lower curtsey. It was a very visible show of deep respect, and she couldn't help but beam up at him.

"I believe that is my line," she retorted, giving him a wink as she stood.

The quartet took up the next melody at Josephine signal, this had a very slow, almost halting rhythm. Obviously intended not to intimidate beginners, which led Trevelyan wondering why this hadn't been to first piece the minstrels had played. She watched with a small smile tugging at her lips, as Josephine coaxed a hesitant Sera out onto the dance floor, whilst Dorian and Varric began instructing Bull in the basic steps. Evelyn's attention was quickly distracted though, when she noticed Cullen out of the corner of her eye. The commander had forgone his armour in favour of a simple, cream cotton shirt, that was left open at the neck, and brown twill breeches. Evelyn couldn't help but eye him appreciatively, as he propped himself against the mantle of the fireplace nearest the door. In truth, the commander looked as if he was debating bolting at any moment.

"My dear, if you are going to make eyes at someone beneath your station, at least take some initiative and do something about it," Vivienne stated coolly.

The first enchanter's voice was so surprisingly close to Trevelyan's ear, that she almost jumped. Thankfully, Evelyn managed to keep composure, though a flurry of choice words echoed around her head. _'Harpy. Witch. Crone'_ were a few of her favourites to describe her favourite frienemy right now. However much she wanted to snap at Vivienne for her rude words towards Solas and Cullen, Evelyn chose to hold her tongue, for now at least. Deciding instead that trying to keep her composure, was perfect practise for the ball. Instead of reacting, Trevelyan simply made to step away, though her exit was halted when her fellow mage lay a hand on her forearm.

"I must admit, the commander is quite a striking man," Vivienne said slowly, as if it pained her to admit such a thing. "The two of you would make a handsome couple." With that, the first enchanter released her arm and stepped away.

Unsure whether Vivienne was trying to bait her or not, Evelyn merely shook her head before walking over to Cullen. He gave a slight smile when he noticed her, though his posture visible shifted from being slightly relaxed to _very_ tense. A blush had begun to creep up his neck before she had even reached him, and Evelyn smiled with a mixture of affection and amusement, as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"My lady, you look..." the commander trailed off, his warm brown eyes regarding her appreciatively. "Maker's breath," he whispered, almost as if chastising himself as he shook his head. "You look beautiful, Evelyn." He smiled fully then, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.

Charmed by his gesture, Trevelyan dipped into yet another curtsey. Though this time she relished it, as Cullen's blush became more noticeable. It was utterly adorable. "You are too kind, good Ser," she demurred. "Would you care to dance?"

"I'm... uh... not one f... for dancing," the commander stammered, glancing away but not releasing her hand. "The Templars never attended balls." His gaze wandered to the impromptu dance floor, and he looked honestly horrified of the thought of going onto it.

Chuckling, Evelyn stepped closer to Cullen, pointedly ignoring how he visibly swallowed, as she placed his hand on her waist before resting her hand on his shoulder. Gently, she manoeuvred their joint hands, so they were in a loose approximation of a formal hold. The commander smiled nervously as he looked down at her from his greater height.

"Dance with me here, pretend it's just the two of us," she said kindly, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

"Alright," he agreed hesitantly.

"Okay, when I step back with my right leg, you will step forward on your left," Evelyn advised, before doing just that, Cullen following her instruction. "Then, you will take a step to the side with your right leg, and I'll mirror you with my left." Once again, they executed the movements after she spoke. "Now, take a step back with your left, and I'll follow with my right, then close your feet together. Like standing to attention without saluting." Evelyn couldn't help but grin when they completed the set of steps. "Cullen, that's great! That was a full box step," she beamed, genuinely proud of him. "Now, again!"

Smiling shyly, the commander nodded, before stepping forward with his left foot. Though his steps were tentative, he was soon leading their joint movements. It may not have been a grand waltz like she had shared with Dorian or Solas, it wasn't flashy or impressive, but it was sweet. Even though it was one set of basic steps repeated over and over, for a man who had never danced before, it was a great start. Especially since Cullen hadn't stood on Evelyn's feet once, much to her relief.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Trevelyan &amp; Dorian's dance is inspired by the dance sequence from. André Rieu - Emperor Waltz (Kaiser-Walzer), which you can find on YouTube if you are interested. For Solas I also had André Rieu pieces in mind, which are the given names mentioned in the chapter. Cullen's dance is inspired by the piece of music called Valse très lente (Very Slow Waltz) by Jules Massenet &amp; the steps Trevelyan instructs him in are genuine basic waltz steps. Solas' clothing is taken from a version of the Keeper Robes that I found whilst browsing Google.  
Title for this chapter is inspired by the 1996 Japanese film 'Shall we ダンス****?' or 'Shall We Dance?'. I love this film and since there are a few songs listed in the chapter already, I thought to honour a favourite film instead of matching it with a particular song.**


	37. Playing with Fire

**Playing with Fire**

With practised ease, Evelyn lifted up her gown's skirt as she stepped daintily out of the ornate, gilded carriage. All eyes in the palace courtyard turn towards her, including those of her advisers and inner circle, and Trevelyan tried not to notice how Cullen's eyes widened at the sight of her. With a refined smile, she nodded her thanks to the footman who helped her down the three steps to the cobbled paving, before strolling towards her companions. It was truly delightful to see all the men looking polished and well groomed in their striking red military coats, and royal blue sashes. All wore brown trews and brown leather boots, even Solas, and all had tan leather gauntlets and belts.

The women wore various designs of floor length gowns, all made in a luxurious red silk that compliment the men's uniforms perfectly. Each dress was unique to the owner, though all wore a small sapphire suspended from a delicate gold chain around their necks, to pick up the blue of the uniform's sash. Well... all accept Trevelyan herself.

Evelyn's gown was a marvel, and differed greatly from the other women's, at Vivienne's insistence of course. Her gown was made of deep blue, royal sea silk to contrast vividly against the red of the other Inquisition members, but still highlighting the Inquisition's colours. Her bodice was tightly fitted, accentuating her ample curves, and the sweetheart neckline was encrusted with a myriad of glittering clear gemstones. Gems which Evelyn seriously hoped were not real diamonds. More crystals clustered at the right side of her waist, before the skirt flared slightly in an a-line, though still needed no petticoats, which enable Trevelyan to move more freely. Crystals scattered the full length of the skirt, dazzling in the light and looked like stars against a midnight sky. The jewellery she wore was a silent show of support from her own mother. A stunning set of genuine diamond earrings, choker and cuff bracelet. A set that Evelyn had coveted greatly, before being sent to the circle. It had been a touching reminder that she had her family's support, when one of their guards had arrived at Skyhold that very morning, baring the jewellery as a gift.

"You are a truly ravishing creature, my little minx," Dorian greeted, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "All eyes will be on you tonight, the court won't know what hit them."

"Indeed. It would be unsurprising to receive marriage proposals by the morrow, no?" Leliana smiled slyly.

"Burn them," Evelyn replied, deadpan.

"That may all be well and good for paper, darling," Vivienne drawled, almost smiling. "But what if..."

"I was talking about the nobles," Trevelyan interjected, matter of fact. Earning her several chuckles from her companions, including the first enchanter.

As the group began to ascend the lavish marble staircase that led up to the Winter Palace, Dorian took her arm, closing the distance so he could whisper in her ear. "You may want to know, your commander looked ready to commit murder at the mention of proposals," he teased.

"Chuckles doesn't look too happy either," Varric quipped, obviously over hearing them.

Glancing over her shoulder, Evelyn found their assessments to be true. However, Cullen blushed upon noticing her gaze, and started talking to Blackwall, presumably about troop movements. Though Solas' frown merely etched itself deeper. Unsure what was wrong, Evelyn squeezed Varric's shoulder in silent thanks, threw Dorian a cheeky wink, then dropped back a few paces until she found herself walking along side the elf.

"I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger and sex that permeates these events," Solas said dryly, his frown easing.

"That's one way to look at the corruption and over inflated egos," Evelyn chuckled. "Though I must admit, you seem more at ease with a grand Orlesian ball than I suspected."

"I have seen countless such displays... during my journeys in the Fade. The powerful have always been the same, only the costumes change," he replied, sounding almost regretful.

Without thinking, Trevelyan linked her arm through his as they walked, evoking a flurry of whispering from those they passed by. She felt Solas tense slightly, as she expected, though he soon seemed to relax. In fact, he seemed more at ease than he had when they had walked through Skyhold's main hall together. The night Trevelyan nearly flambéed an Orlesian noble... as Varric and Sera had taken to calling it.

"Are you alright?" Evelyn asked, receiving a nod in response. "Will you tell me if you encounter any trouble from the nobles?"

"I do not think the Orlesians know what to make of me," Solas replied. "And you, dear lady, are playing with fire." He punctuated the statement by lightly squeezing the hand that was draped around the crook of his arm.

Evelyn shrugged dismissively. "I do not care for their games," she admitted. "They are pompous, obnoxious, and need to take their heads out of their rears. What's more, all I can think about when I look around this place, is that it should belong to the elves."

Trevelyan paused, trying to cool her rising temper, as her grip tightened on her companion's forearm. Right now, Halamshiral represented everything that was wrong with society. Evelyn hated it, with the same passion she hated the oppression of mages. Both were so wrong, though the hand the elves were dealt, bothered her a great deal more. A regretful sigh escaped her, which earned her a raised eyebrow from Solas.

"I know it probably doesn't mean much," Evelyn started. "But after Corypheus is defeated, I swear I will do everything I can to help the elves. To make the rest of Thedas see you all deserve to, and should be, treated equally."

Solas seemed surprised by her declaration, though he quickly covered it. "Along with the mages?" he asked. His tone was serious, though amusement seemed to dance in his stormy eyes.

"Damn right," Evelyn affirmed, giving her friend a beaming smile. "Anyway... I don't suppose you'd have any interest in dancing tonight?" she asked coyly, as they reached the top of the staircase.

"A great deal," Solas replied, smiling. As he gently led her towards the great fountain that dominated the garden. "Although, dancing with an elven apostate will win you few favours with the court."

"As would my personal opinion that Andraste and Shartan were lovers," Trevelyan replied glibly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn noticed Josephine beckoning to her. Another sigh escaped her. It was show time. Feeling a little demon-may-care, and not caring one iota for the scandal it might cause, she gave Solas a truly impish smile. It was the only warning she gave, before she kissed him. Granted, it was only on the cheek, but Evelyn angled her head that any onlookers would be hard pressed to determine whether the kiss had been on the cheek or the lips. As expected, several startled gasps could be heard from the Orlesians around them.

Solas gave a hearty chuckle. "Playing with fire, lethallan," he chastised.

Trevelyan giggled in reply, before turning to find Josephine. Her heart sunk to realise she would have to wade through the gathered crowd. However, steeling herself, Evelyn threw Solas a wink over her shoulder, before she let the crowd swallow her up.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**The was originally the first section of the tenth chapter. Chapter title is inspired by the Rolling Stones' song of the same name. I thought a lot of the lyrics fitted the chapter well. ****The part regarding Andraste and Shartan is taken from the DA wiki. Trevelyan's gown is inspired by Mirusia' dress in the André Rieu video for 'Time to Say Goodbye'. **


	38. The Big Show

**The Big Show**

Light refracted and reflected from a million faceted crystals. Gilded woodwork shone like the embers of a fire, and the two toned marble floor was polished like the surface of a wet, river pebble. Despite, or perhaps because of, the splendour, Evelyn scowled at the scene. She hated balls. No... that wasn't exactly true. She loved the dancing and the music, she simply hated being forced to make pleasant conversation with countless nobles, all of whom walked around with their heads up their asses. She hated plastering on a fake smile, and pretending to care about whatever idle gossip was being spouted.

"I have been advised of the entrance list," Josephine stated, the ruffles of her red dress swishing across the floor as she moved. "It will be Leliana, Cullen and myself. Shortly followed by your inner circle, then you. Though I must warn you, both Cole and Sera have seemingly disappeared, so I have retracted them from the list."

"Thanks, Josie," Evelyn replied, squeezing the ambassador's hand, before the other woman left to take her place at the head of the stairs.

Trevelyan's gaze wandered around the upper balcony, fondly admiring her gathered friends and feeling a pang of regret that Nadia and the Chargers couldn't be there. Then her eyes found Cullen. The commander was leaning against the wall, seemingly trying to disappear into the shadows. Though his attempt was failing miserably, if the gather crowd of nobles were any indication. To say the warrior looked uncomfortable, would be a gross understatement. He looked like a rabbit caught in a fox's gaze. Taking pity on him, Evelyn weaved her way through the small crowd to his side.

"My Lady Inquisitor," he greeted formally.

"Commander Rutherford," she replied dryly, linking her arm through his and pulling him away from his protesting admirers. "You look ill at ease, Cullen. Not enjoying the attention?" she teased, smiling up at him warmly.

"Hardly. Anyway, yours..." The commander paused, his eyes widening slightly at what he just said. He gave a polite, if not nervous, cough before smiling at her shyly. "Yours is the only attention worth having." His voice had dropped into a low whisper, and a blush was slowly creeping up his neck.

Warmth spread through Evelyn at his words, her heart beating a little faster, but before Trevelyan could reply, the court announcer began to clear his throat. "We'll speak later," she promised, squeezing his arm affectionately, as she ushered him to join Leliana and Josephine.

"I await your signal," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging the corner of his lips.

"Representing the Inquisition," the clerk began in a loud voice. "Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court. Veteran of the fifth blight. Seneschal of the Inquisition, and left hand of the Divine."

At the announcement, the spy master seemed to glide down the ornate stair case, her steps fluid yet determined, and her cowl-neck dress hugging her body like a second skin. Leliana looked like she was born into this world of splendour.

"Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City, ambassador of the Inquisition."

Josephine followed Leliana example. With concise movements that spoke of years of practise, the ambassador lifted up her full, ruffled skirt, allowing her bejewelled shoes to peek out, as she elegantly descended the stairs.

"Ser Cullen Stenton Rutherford of Honnleath, commander of the forces of the Inquisition. Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall."

The commander shot Trevelyan a panicked look, that she replied to with a sweet, encouraging smile. Evelyn watched as Cullen took a deep breath, before giving her a slight nod, then strode down the stairs. _'_

_Maker! He's handsome' _she thought, and not for the first time.

Two distinct chuckles sounded behind her, and glancing over her shoulder, Trevelyan was greeted with Dorian and Varric smirking at her. Biting the inside of her cheek, Evelyn rolled her eyes, as Dorian waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"Renowned author Varric Tethras," the clerk announced. "Head of noble house Tethras. Deshyr of Kirkwall to the dwarven merchants guild."

"Guess that's me," Varric laughed, adjusting his sash. "Just... try not to make Curly implode tonight, Beautiful."

The last part was said as the dwarf walked passed Trevelyan, and down the staircase. Denying Evelyn the chance to retort.

"Lord Dorian Pavus, Member of the Circle of Virantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel."

Dorian adjusted his gloves, before cupping Evelyn's cheek. "Remember, you are dazzling," he told her fondly, before strutting down the stairs.

Trevelyan watched in admiration, as her best friend sauntered down the stairs. He simply oozed confidence. Not that Evelyn was surprised, the Tevinter mage never did anything by halves. It was one of the things she loved about him.

"Lady Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena," the clerk began.

"Oh, get on with it," Cassandra muttered, throwing Evelyn a pained look. Trevelyan smiled at her friend encouragingly, fully understanding how the seeker felt.

"Pentaghast," the clerk continued, oblivious to Cassandra's annoyance. "Fourteenth cousin to the king of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais, right hand of the Divine."

With that, the seeker fixed a fake smile in place, and actually sashayed down the staircase to the dance floor. If Evelyn's mouth hung open in shock, just a little bit, she certainly wasn't the only one. She had to hand it to Cassandra, she certainly knew how to play The Game, even if she hated it.

"Madame Vivienne," the clerk announced. "First enchanter of the circle of magi. Enchanter of the Imperial Court, mistress of the Duke of Ghislain."

"Remember to smile, my dear, this is all for show," Vivienne whispered in Evelyn's ear, as she moved passed. "And you look lovely, by the way."

There was actual affection in the first enchanter's tone, much to Trevelyan's surprise. She hadn't previously been away the power mage could show any emotion other than cold confidence. Evelyn watched as Vivienne glided down the ornate staircase. The plunging neckline of her crimson gown showcasing a scandalous amount of ample cleavage and warm, umber skin.

"Warden Blackwall of Val Chevans, Constable of the Grey," the clerk called out. "Bearer of the silverite Wings of Valour."

The warden shook his head, sighing, before he followed Vivienne's confident strides down the staircase. He kept his gaze trained straight ahead, and just like Cullen before him, simply screamed 'warrior' in the way he moved.

"The Iron Bull," the clerk continued. "Leader of the famed mercenary company: Bull's Chargers... as the name might imply."

Snorting in amusement, Bull pushed himself away from the pillar he had been leaning against. "Show time, Boss," he grinned.

As fetching as the Qunari looked in his red military jacket, his size and bulk made it look like he was marching into battle, instead of walking into a ball. Not that the situation was any less deadly than any of their previous fights, this one simply had concealed weapons disguised as smiles.

"The Lady Inquisitor's elven serv..." the clerk coughed, as Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him. "Researcher... into the arcane arts... Solas."

Just as Trevelyan was debating throwing a fire ball at the pathetic excuse of a man, she felt a gloved hand gently encircle her wrist. "It is not worthy of reaction, Lethallan," Solas whispered.

Evelyn defiantly felt the need to protest. However, turning to face the elf's stormy eyes, she found herself giving her friend half a smile instead. Her exhalation came out more of a smile than a breath, and Evelyn briefly squeezed Solas' fingers, as his hand brushed passed hers. The elf gave her a respectful nod, before he descended the stairs with an elegant and confident stride.

"And introducing Lady Inquisitor Trevelyan, daughter of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick," the clerk announced. "Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Fereldan, crusher of the vile apostate underground."

"He's so full of it, that's not how it went," said a voice, that could have been Sera's, though there was still no sign of the mischievous elf.

"Escorting Lady Trevelyan, Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons," the clerk continued.

"My lady, are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper?" the duke questioned, as he offered her his gloved hand.

Much to Trevelyan's surprise, she found her smile wasn't as false as she was expecting. Graciously, Evelyn placed her hand in the duke's, giving a slight curtsey, as he bowed over her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Would it surprise you, that I adore the outrageous?" she replied coyly, easily falling into step beside him.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the second part of the ninth chapter, and like all the previous chapters, it has been edited and modified. Some of this section pulled on inspiration from my oneshot: Entrances. Chapter title is inspired by the WWE entrance song for... Big Show. I couldn't help it, it was stuck in my mind whilst writing!**


	39. She Wolf

**She Wolf  
**

A disgruntled sigh escaped her as she jogged up the stairs that led towards the ballroom. It had been one hell of a night. First the skin crawling affair of dancing with Duchess Florianne, then tracking down some Red Jenny stashes for Sera, and gathering information that Leliana could use at a later date to bolster the Inquisition's standing. Then there was a fight with a Harlequin and a group of Venatori, as well as finding a soldier naked and bound to Celene's bed, much to her amusement. Along with Varric, Bull and Dorian's. The latter obviously needing to insinuate it was something Evelyn should bare in mind, _when_ her and Cullen finally got together. And not forgetting rescuing the young elven servant who was furious at Briala, saving a mercenary that was ready to turn against Gaspard, and of course... discovering Florianne's betrayal and surviving the ambush that was set for them. Oh, and not to mention closing another rift as well.

"This was one for the books," Varric muttered, as they reached the upper landing.

Evelyn hummed her agreement, and not caring about her blood stained armour, she pushed open the door to the grand ballroom. A few of the gathered nobles began to gossip when they spied her entrance, along with Dorian, Varric and the Iron Bull. They were all covered in blood splatters and demon ichor, from head to toe. Yet they paid the nobles no mind, and Trevelyan was too busy watching Cullen, Solas and Cassandra's approach, to listen to the scandalised whispers.

The commander looked almost horrified, once his gaze had finished sweeping the length of her. Solas' brow furrowed, presumably he had noticed the way Trevelyan was leaning heavily on her staff, as she stood waiting for them. He usually did. Cassandra merely shook her head, unceremoniously handing Trevelyan a health potion once she drew near. Evelyn gave the seeker a weak smile in thanks, before she knocked back the potent red liquid.

"Thank the Maker you're back," Cullen said, as his hand reached out to cup her face, his warm brown eyes full of concern. "The Empress will begin her speech soon. What should we do?"

His thumb gently swiped her cheekbone, wiping away a smear of blood that she had missed. Then Cullen's snatched his hand away, almost as if he'd only just realised what he'd done. The gesture made Evelyn feel a little less weary.

"Wait here," Trevelyan answered simply, setting the empty potion bottle onto a nearby ledge. "I'm going to have a word with the Grand Duchess."

Behind her, Dorian snorted and Bull gave a low, menacing chuckle.

"There's no time," Cassandra interjected. "The Empress will begin her speech at any moment."

"Trust me seeker, you'll want to watch this," Varric stated, as he lay a hand against the small of Trevelyan's back. "You need us, Beautiful?" he asked, looking up at her.

Evelyn chuckled darkly. "Just watch my back."

"You got it, Sweetheart," Dorian stated.

The Tevinter mage clasped her shoulder briefly, before he and Varric took up positions either side of the grand staircase. Solas threw her a questioning look, though before Trevelyan could answer, Bull gave the elf a pointed look.

"Come with me," the Qunari instructed, his tone authoritative. "We'll shadow you along the balcony," he said, turning his attention to Evelyn. "We've got you covered, Boss."

Nodding in acknowledgement, Trevelyan gave Cullen a wink, and Cassandra a feral grin before heading down the gilded stairs. Several gasps were heard from the crowd, presumably from those having just noticed her state of disarray. Her cropped red hair was wild, and verdant eyes burned with fury. The blood that had not yet dried, was dripping slowly down her armour and splashing the polished floor, as she strode purposefully towards her target. Out of the corner of her eye, Trevelyan noticed Bull and Solas shadowing her from the upper section of the ballroom. A wicked smirk tugged out Evelyn's mouth. She was the hunter, the wolf. Her pack was circling, and her pray was in sight.

"We owe the court one more show, your grace," she called out to Florianne.

The duchess' posture stiffened noticeably, as she turn to face Trevelyan. "Inquisitor."

"The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, your grace. Remember to smile," Evelyn goaded, as she ascended the stairs to join the duchess on the raised level. "This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you had lost control."

Florianne very evidently backed away from Trevelyan's advance. "Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?"

Evelyn resisted the urge to snort in amusement. "I seem to recall you saying: 'All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike'," she said loudly, beginning to stalk around the duchess. "When you're archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance." Evelyn noticed both the Empress and Gaspard were watching her intently, Briala hovered nearby, a small smile on the elf's lips. "It's so easy to loose your good graces," Trevelyan continued. "You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary. It was an ambitious plan. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds... all your enemies under one roof."

Florianne's practised smile faltered. "This is all very entertaining, but you do not image anyone believes your wild stories?" she sniffed.

"That will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin," the Empress stated coolly, looking at the duchess with disdain, evident even from behind her bejewelled mask.

The duchess' eyes widened, as she finally realised her plan had been outed. "Gaspard!" She turned imploringly to her brother. "You cannot believe this! You know I would never..."

Florianne's voice trailed off, as the duke simply turned his back on her, walking up to join Celene on the balcony, with Briala keeping pace beside him. Fighting the urge to kill the snivelling bitch, Trevelyan had to physically cross her arms, to save herself from reaching for her staff. Though four of palace guards quickly descended upon the duchess.

"You lost this fight ages ago, _your grace_." Evelyn spat the title out as if it was the greatest of insults. "You're just the last one to find out." As Florianne was bodily dragged away by the guards, Trevelyan's attention moved to the Empress. "Your imperial majesty, I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere."

Celene nodded graciously. "Of course, Inquisitor," she acknowledged, almost smiling. "I will await you on the grand balcony. Feel free to freshen up before hand."

Unable to hide her amused smirk, Evelyn bowed to Celene before turning and briskly retracing her path across the ballroom. An order disguised as a request._ 'How very Orlesian' _she thought ruefully, as she winked at Varric in passing.

Josephine and Leliana were waiting for her by the gilded doors that lead away from the ballroom, and both women wasted no time ushering Evelyn through. They were no doubt already calculating how quickly they could transform her back from the warrior mage, to the belle of the ball.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the third section of the ninth chapter. It always amazed me, that after everything that happens at Halamshiral, you don't even look like you've had a fight when you get back to the ballroom. I really felt the need to rectify that, make it a little more realistic. Chapter title inspired by the Shakira song of the same name. Mainly inspired by the bridge &amp; the chorus though, for those who are interested. **


	40. Back to the Start

**Back to the Start**

Trevelyan breezed through the ballroom, as if she owned the place. The deep blue, royal sea silk of her gown swished against the floor, as she padded lightly along, not caring if it was frowned upon to walk around bare foot. She'd had enough of the stupid pointy shoes, and her beloved boots were covered in blood, so it was the only option. If anyone noticed, nothing was mentioned, until she was hurrying up the flight of stairs that led to the Empress' balcony. As Evelyn was ascending, she heard a not-so-subtle, exasperated sigh that had surely come from Vivienne. And once she reached the top of the staircase, Solas caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Throwing the elf a cheeky wink, Trevelyan stepped through the door that led to the balcony, and immediately bit back a groan of annoyance when she was greeted by heated bickering.

"Everyone of you is implicated," Evelyn stated coolly. "You all conspired to allow this to happen."

"That's a bold claim, Inquisitor," Celene replied. "Are you prepared to defend it?"

Trevelyan smiled, sickly sweet at the Empress. "You allowed the duke to sneak soldiers in, hoping he'd make a politically foolish move."

"That's... duplicitous, even for you Celene," Gaspard interjected, managing to sound both impressed and incensed in the same instance.

"You took the bait," Trevelyan scoffed. "I met your mercenary captain, your grace. He says you were ready to attack tonight."

"Clever move, if you were trying to get hanged for treason," Briala stated.

"And Briala was playing both of you. She murdered your ambassadors and sent you each forged letters," Evelyn stated. "However, I wouldn't have caught Florianne in time without Briala's help," she added, honestly.

They were all conniving and devious, though the elven ambassador did have more of a justified reason. Which Trevelyan could respect, even if she despised the methods. Then again, Evelyn had even developed a soft spot for Gaspard. There had been a moment when the duke had looked devastated, upon hearing of his sisters plot.

"You... were working together?" Celene asked hesitantly. After a moment of silence, Briala simply nodded. A tiny smile pulled at the Empress' lips, before she turned her gaze back to Evelyn. "You've made your point. What do you want?"

A chuckle bubbled up and escaped before Trevelyan could leash it, leaving the other three to look at her questioningly. "You are three of the best minds in the empire," she stated, once she managed to dampen her amusement. "You could do so much for Orlais, and your people, if you only stopped fighting."

"It is remarkably... optimistic, to believe that the three of us could ever forget our differences, Inquisitor," Celene replied.

"And yet you kept the locket Briala gave you, for all this time," Evelyn countered, her voice becoming gentle. "And Gaspard is your blood. Families are supposed to support one another, not betray each other... You all love the empire and it's people. Surely, that is worth more than bitter rivalry."

To their credit, the three of them had the grace to look ashamed of themselves. The duke shot Celene and Briala a pointed look, before nodding briskly. "I shall await you inside," he stated formally.

Once Gaspard stepped inside, Trevelyan noticed that the duke was intercepted by Cullen and Leliana. No doubt her two advisers were intending to keep him from doing anything rash or foolish. Evelyn's mouth quirked into half a smile. Out of the three main players, she felt that Gaspard was the least likely to cause trouble.

"I can scarcely believe you did this..." the Empress said to Briala, sounding more emotional than her mask let her appear.

"Celene..." the elf started, her hand raising to catch hold of Celene's, as if on it's own accorded.

"There will be time for reunions later," Evelyn said kindly. "The people need to know of this new, united future."

Both women nodded, and the Empress led the way inside. As Celene passed, she nodded to her cousin, who fell into step beside her. The duke held himself stiffly, and Trevelyan imagined that Gaspard was holding in a lot of turmoil and emotion. Despite his faults and plot, the duke had just found out that his sister had set him up, before having to come to terms of a three-way alliance. In truth, Evelyn felt quite sorry for him, though that might be because she had older brothers who she adored. She couldn't comprehend how Florianne had turned on him. It sickened her to think of it.

Side by side, Celene and Gaspard walked to the balustrade that over looked the dance floor. There was a moment of stunned silence, before the pair was received by a round of sedate applause. Both Trevelyan and Briala decided to hang back slightly, allowing the feuding cousins to publicly put aside their differences.

"Lords and ladies of the court," the Empress addressed the crowd. "We are pleased to announce an accord has been reached. Our cousin Gaspard, will now hold a place of honour in our cabinet."

There was a collective, scandalised gasp from the crowd, before a flurry of chatter erupted. Which forced the duke to raise a hand for silence.

"Friends, we assembled are the leaders of the empire. We must set the example for all of Thedas," he stated. "We cannot be at war with each other, while the Fade itself challenges our borders."

"We must stand united, or surely we will fall alone," Celene added, before glancing towards Briala. "It is a new age for Orlais. We shall build a world in which all men and women live in harmony. Let the corner stone of change be laid. I introduce the newest member of our court: Marquise Briala of the Dales."

Briala looked visibly shocked, and turned to Evelyn, her eyes wide. It was almost as if the petite elf was looking to her for reassurance, to confirm that she wasn't hearing things. Biting the inside of her cheek, Trevelyan ushered the new marquise forward, and was impressed to see how quickly Briala recovered from her surprise.

"This is not just a victory in Halamshiral," the elf declared, as she joined Gaspard and Celene. "Or within the empire, or for elves alone. This is a triumph for everyone. Over a thousand years ago, in the Valarian Fields, elves and humans defeated the Imperium. We can do so much more now, we are greater than our ancestors ever dreamed. Together, we will start by saving our world from the enemy who took the Divine and tore the sky apart."

Stepping up beside the elf, Trevelyan nodded to Celene before addressing the court. "We will save Thedas from calamity, but only together may we accomplish this. It will take all of us to defeat the enemy threatening our world."

"We will heal our wounded country. A long road of reconstruction lies before us," the Empress stated. "But tonight we celebrate the arrival of peace and our newfound fellowship. Let the festivities commence."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This chapter was originally the fourth section of the ninth chapter. So, in truth, I wasn't a fan of **_**any**_** of the potential rulers of Orlais, though I did feel a bit sorry for Gaspard. He really got the raw end of the deal. Also, I didn't like that if you managed to get them to agree to a three-way alliance, that Briala didn't address the court, and you can't reunite her with Celene and save Gaspard's life. So... this happened! Chapter title is inspired by the Lily Allen song of the same name, I thought it rather fitting.**


	41. The Way You Look Tonight

**The Way You Look Tonight**

Biting back the desire to scream, Trevelyan's head fell forward, her chin resting on her collarbone. She had retreated from the ballroom, hoping to find peace and solace out on a deserted balcony. As yet, that had not happened. Apparently her departure had only prompted the Empress' occult adviser, Morrigan, to seek her out. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, the famous mage _had _offered her services to the Inquisition after all, but all Evelyn wanted was some tranquillity. The approaching footstep stated that fate had a very different idea.

"There you are. Everyone's been looking for you."

A quiet sigh escaped Trevelyan's lips, before she plastered on as convincing a smile as she could manage and turned to face the commander. However, looking up at his handsome face and warm eyes, Evelyn's smile morphed into a much more honest one.

"Cullen," she greeted, but her weariness turned her voice into not much more than a whisper.

"Things have calmed down for the moment. Are you alright?" he asked. Concern was evident in his soft tone, and the look in his brown eyes.

"Things went according to plan, for once," Evelyn smiled. "I couldn't be happier."

"This whole operation had me on edge. I'm glad it's over," Cullen admitted. He seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat, a slight blush appearing on his neck. "I know it's foolish but I..." The commander gave a nervous cough, his gaze falling from her face to the horizon behind her. "I was worried for you tonight."

Evelyn was touched, and a little surprised, by his admission. "Thank you, Cullen," she replied.

Her gaze happily drank in every feature of the commander. His handsome face, warm eyes and defined physique. His strawberry-blonde hair kept tame with hair wax, the distracting scar on his lip that made his smile even sexier, and the way the uniform made him look almost regal. Honestly, Cullen was something right out of one of Varric's Swords and Shields books. And Trevelyan could well image, if this _was_ one of the dwarf's stories, she would already be swooning. A sudden smirk on the commander's mouth, made Evelyn's heart flutter.

_'Damn it! Don't actually swoon!'_ she scolded herself.

"I may never have another chance like this," Cullen stated cryptically. "So I must ask..." Trevelyan watched as he took a deep breath, before stepping away from her. He unexpectedly held out his hand. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

It felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs. After the commander's reluctance during the singular night of dance practice, Evelyn had never imagined this scenario. The lilting melody from the orchestra, the candle lit balcony, the scent of lavender in the balmy night air, and the star speckled night sky overhead... Trevelyan could well imagine that if Varric ever found out, he would have a field they. Saying that... if Cassandra ever found out, the seeker might explode from romantic overload... she was such a softy.

"But of course, Ser Knight," Evelyn giggled, delicately placing her hand into Cullen's awaiting palm. "Though I thought you didn't dance."

The commander's blush noticeably deepened. "For you, I'll try," he smiled, his strong arms coming to encircle Evelyn's waist, as her hands slid to his shoulders. "You look radiant tonight," he added, slightly bashfully.

The music of the orchestra only reached them faintly, but they swayed together in time to the melody. This was no formal dance to dazzle the court, it was a purely intimate affair. Made more so, when Evelyn closed the distance between them. She physically felt Cullen's breath hitch, as her body moulded itself to the length of his. Evelyn smiled up at him, open and honest, as her hands crept from his shoulders to clasp behind his flushed neck. The commander returned her smile with a shy one of his own, as they continued to sway. And their only witnesses, were the myriad of twinkling stars that shone in the deep indigo sky.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This chapter was the originally the final section of the ninth chapter. Chapter title is inspired by the Frank Sinatra song of the same name, which I felt complimented this scene perfectly. **


	42. You're My Best Friend

**You're My Best Friend**

Gently, Evelyn carded her hands through his thick hair, whilst his head pillowed in her lap. There were no doubts in her mind that she truly loved this man, and after everything he had endured this week… well, her affection had only strengthened. So they sat together, the cold of the library's stone floor seeping into their bodies, both too bone weary to do the sensible thing and retire to her quarters. Neither particularly cared if their actions were deemed inappropriate, and Trevelyan was a hairsbreadth away from hurling a fireball at anyone else who would dare say anything against him.

"He says we are alike," he said at last, as his hand curled possessively around Evelyn's knee when she shifted positions. "Too much pride. Once, I would have been over joyed to hear him say that. Now I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."

A sad smile formed on her lips, as she stroked his cheek. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

Logically, Evelyn knew it was a ludicrous question, but the only other she could think to ask was what exactly his father _did_, to cause the rift between them. However, after witnessing what had transpired in the Gull and Lantern, Trevelyan had no intention of broaching the subject, not unless her best friend chose to do so first.

"No," the Tevinter mage sighed wearily. "Not really. Though thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but… it's something." Tiredly, Dorian shifted himself to an upright position. "Though Maker knows what you think of me after that whole display," he lamented, propping his forearm across a bent knee as he spoke.

"Oh Dorian," Evelyn chided, leaning her head against his solid shoulder. "I think you're very brave."

"Brave?"

His confusion rang so heavy in that single word, and Evelyn didn't need the glance she gave her fellow mage, to know the look of surprise on Dorian's handsome face. Moving so she was knelt in front of him, Trevelyan gave him a light, chaste kiss.

"It's not easy to turn away from tradition and walk your own path," she clarified.

In that moment, Evelyn felt both wiser and older than her actual age should allow. Whether it was the gesture or her words, Trevelyan wasn't sure, but she was rewarded by a hint of a smile from her best friend.

"Besides, who gives a damn who you sleep with?" she asked, cupping his face with her hands. "Sure, there's going to be a lot of heart broken women out there… perhaps one in here too."

She winked when he raised an eyebrow at her. Chuckling, Dorian pulled her into a tight embrace, dragging her practically into his lap. Which set Evelyn off giggling. Over the months she had known the Tevinter mage, she had lost count of the amount of times the pair had ended up like this.

"If I ever decided to swing that way, you would be my only choice," he teased, glancing out the latticed window at the darkening sky. "At any rate, I believe it is time to drink myself into a stupor. It's certainly been that sort of day. You should join me, if you're of a mind."

"Do you really need to ask?" Evelyn laughed.

With practised ease, Trevelyan expertly extracted herself from Dorian's hold, and their tangle of limbs. Before managing to walk, quite literally, straight into Cullen.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**To start, this was originally the first section of chapter ten... that was very originally a oneshot called: Presumptions. Unlike the previous chapters, the next few will follow ****the format of my other stories (This One's Heart is Pure and The Mage's Assassin), and be told from alternating PoVs. Chapter title &amp; slight theme is inspired by the Queen song of the same name, that I thought was entirely fitting, giving who Freddie Mercury wrote the song about.**


	43. You Belong with Me

**You Belong with Me **(Cullen PoV)

His breathing hitched, and it felt like his heart had leapt into his throat as she beamed up at him, completely unabashed. It had been a fortnight since Halamshiral, two weeks spent with memories of their shared dance drowning out his usual nightmares, yet still managing to drive him crazy. There hadn't been a moment for Cullen to speak to the Evelyn since. Well... nothing outside his role of commander to her role as Inquisitor, at any rate. It was something that weighed on him heavily. Valiantly, Cullen tried to ignore just how close her body was to his, as his hands lightly griped her biceps in aid to steady her from their collision.

"Lady Trevelyan," he greeted.

His voice came out more clipped than he had intended, which was all too evident from the slight wince she gave. Instantly, Cullen felt terribly guilty. And he could well imagine the blush that was beginning to creep up his neck.

"Forgive me, I…" He trailed off, unsure how he would finish that sentence.

Forgive me, I am infatuated with you. Forgive me, I saw you with Dorian and I'm confused from all the times you flirted with me, and our dance. Forgive me, I'm currently eaten up with jealousy. _'What in the Maker's name am I meant to say?!'_

"Cullen," the Inquisitor chided, shaking her head but still smiling. "There's no need to be so formal."

Before he could reply, an accented voice that could only be Mother Giselle was demanding: "What do you think you are doing?"

Without thinking, Cullen snapped to attention and turned to address the priestess. Only to find her glowering at Dorian instead.

"Being clucked at by a hen, evidently," came the mage's glib response.

Against his better judgement, Cullen smiled. Beside him, the Evelyn gave a snort of laughter, that she quickly tried to cover up with a polite cough. Glancing at her sideways, he was rewarded by seeing the stunning redhead flash him a rueful smile. One that inexplicably set his heart pounding. There was a time, after Kinloch Hold, when he would have sworn she had cast some sort of forbidden spell on him. After all, the Inquisitor was certainly powerful enough to do so, yet he knew Evelyn was not that sort of mage. Other than sealing the rifts, the only magic he had ever witnessed her use, was either healing spells or impressive fireballs. Both of which were impossible to ignore.

With a small sigh, the Inquisitor stepped towards the quarrelling pair, and Cullen found himself following her. "What's going on here?" she asked politely. Though her rigid posture gave away her displeasure.

At least to Cullen, who had to admit to himself, he spent far more time watch the Inquisitor than he rightly should. But he couldn't help it, Lady Trevelyan enraptured him. The only other person who had ever stolen so much of his attention was his first love, Garnet Amell.

"It seems the revered mother is concerned about my 'undue influence' over you," Dorian explained dryly, draping an arm around the Inquisitor's shoulders.

As much as he hated to admit it, Cullen was just a little jealous at how easy the Tevinter mage was around Evelyn. The two mages were nearly always together. At first he supposed their closeness was for that reason, because they were both mages. However, Solas... who he knew the Inquisitor thought of as a close confidant, did not seem to share such an intense bond with Evelyn. And Lady Vivienne certainly did not, the two women were barely on speaking terms most of the time. The only other person Cullen could think of, that would that shared such a bond with Evelyn, was Varric. But Cullen doubted that the dwarf would ever lay his head in the Evelyn's lap, as Cullen had unwittingly witnessed Dorian doing.

Loathed as he was to admit it, the mages' closeness reminded him of seeing Garnet with that blonde elf of hers, when she had returned to the tower for the second time. Even though time, and the patience of Andraste on the warden's part, had healed that wound and their friendship… seeing Trevelyan with Dorian had managed to churn up too many old memories and feelings.

"It is just concern," Mother Giselle implored. "Your worship, you must know how this looks."

"You might need to spell it out, my dear," Dorian stated, as his hand slipped from Trevelyan's shoulder, and settled on her waist.

The feeling that Cullen's heart was in his throat, was replaced with a sinking feeling in his gut. He could only ever dream of having such familiarity with the Evelyn, despite the times they flirted. The closet he had ever been was the dance they had shared at the Winter Palace, and he doubted they would ever share the like again. As much as Cullen was envious of the bond between the two mages, he couldn't see what would concern the priestess.

Even though Cullen was currently loathed to admit it, Dorian was an honourable sort. Intelligent, level-headed, though a little flamboyant. He was controlled and disciplined with his magic, and had made it abundantly clear, during several debates over chess, that he abhorred blood magic. Something that couldn't be said for many of his fellow countrymen.

_'Oh…'_

"This man is of Tevinter," Mother Giselle elaborated, confirming Cullen's realisation. "His presences at your side… the rumours alone…"

Cullen couldn't help but be offended on Dorian's behalf, but before he had a chance to defend the man, Trevelyan had stepped away from her fellow mage. Evelyn moved towards the priestess, in much the same way as she had closed in on the Duchess Florianne. Her stance was nothing short of protective, as she effectively put herself between Dorian and Mother Giselle.

"And what's wrong with him being from Tevinter? Specifically," Evelyn asked, resting a hand on her hip.

"I am fully aware that not everyone from the Imperium are the same," Mother Giselle started.

She was cut off by a bark of humourless laughter from the Inquisitor.

"How nice of you to notice," Dorian drawled. "Yet still you bow to the opinion of the masses."

"The opinion of the masses are based on centuries of evidence," Mother Giselle argued.

Fighting the urge to sigh, Cullen rubbed a hand across his stubbled chin. "Surely you can see that argument only leads to further prejudice and resentment," he interjected. "It is as ludicrous as distrusting the Inquisitor because she's a mage. It is a person's actions, not what they are or where they are from, that count."

He spoke truthfully and honestly, smiling wryly to himself when his words conjured visions of the three women who had taught him that lesson. Namely Garnet Amell, her cousin... or was it sister? Ruby Hawke and of course, Knight-Commander Meredith and the monster she'd become.

"What would you have me tell them?" the priestess demanded.

"The truth." Dorian's answer was heart wrenching with it's simplicity, and the mage's almost forlorn tone of voice led Cullen to believe this was not a new occurrence for him.

"The truth is I do not know you, and neither do they," Mother Giselle reasoned.

It was an argument that left Cullen's eyes widening in shock. He had thought the priestess was a wiser, kinder woman than that. And though he would never be able to prove it, but Cullen would swear on his faith, that he felt the air around the begin to noticeably heat up, as the Inquisitor glared at the priestess.

"Yet you still decide to jump to negative conclusions," Trevelyan scoffed. "And I would honestly like to know what these rumours are exactly."

"I… could not repeat them, your worship," the other woman replied.

"Repeat them?" Cullen questioned cautiously.

At the same time the Inquisitor asked: "Oh, so you've shared them before?"

"I see… I meant no disrespect. Only to ask after this man's intentions," Mother Giselle almost apologised, gesturing towards Dorian.

"Then maybe you should ask our commander of his intentions as well," Trevelyan stated, completely matter of fact, and gestured in Cullen's direction, much to his surprise. "He has just as much influence over me as Dorian does. Or does his position as my advisor make that acceptable, whereas being solely my friend is suspect?"

Without waiting for an answer from the priestess, the Inquisitor turned on her heel, catching Dorian's hand as she did. The pair began to walk towards the flight of stone stairs that led down to the Rotunda. However, Evelyn paused once they drew level with him.

"Meet us in the tavern?" she offered, her voice in a low whisper.

Before Cullen could answer, the pair disappeared from sight. And Cullen was a little embarrassed to admit, that Evelyn's request left him staring after her, feeling more confused than ever.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**So this was originally the second part of the tenth chapter, that was very originally a oneshot called: Presumptions. Chapter title is inspired by the Talyor Swift song of the same name. I know that song is from a woman's PoV, but I thought the theme of the song fitted well with this chapter.**


	44. Good Friend and a Glass of Wine

**Good Friend and a Glass of Wine**

"She didn't get to you, did she?" Evelyn asked, squeezing Dorian's hand as they walked across the courtyard.

"No. It takes more to get to me than thinly veiled accusations," he reassured, pushing open the tavern's stout oak door.

"Good to know, but don't worry Sparkler, the Revered Mother is full of hot air. Your friends have your back," Varric interjected.

The dwarf had taken one look at their faces as they left the rotunda, before promptly joining their march for the tavern. Solas, on the other hand, had simply given them a respectful nod and left them to it. Inside the tavern, the warmth of the roaring fires were a welcome reprieve from the frosty mountain air.

"You don't think she will do anything?" Trevelyan questioned her companions.

Glancing around the crowd, Evelyn caught the Iron Bull's eye. The Qunari understood the unspoken request, and he and Krem headed for the bar, as the trio ascended the staircase to their usual haunt.

"Do what?" Dorian replied, nodding thanks as Varric broke off to retrieve Sera from her hidey-hole. "Yours is the good opinion I care about, not hers," he explained, as the pair of them continued up to the second floor, where Cole spent most of his time. "I should ask though, do the rumours bother you?"

"I wish they wouldn't disparage you. They don't know you," Evelyn lamented.

Though that was putting her feelings mildly. Fireballs. Large, flaming, angry fireballs. That was what best summed up Trevelyan's feelings towards the rumours, if she were to being honest. However, as much as that would soothe her soul, Evelyn doubted it would her fellow mage much.

"However, I can think of a lot worse things, than being accused of sleeping with my best friend," she continued. "Especially when the man in question is a devastatingly good looking, charismatic, witty, charming, talented, fellow mage."

Much to Trevelyan relief and delight, her best friend gave a hearty bark of laughter. Just as she expected. After all, she'd learnt long ago that the Tevinter mage adored compliments. Evelyn was just about to carry on, intending to playfully suggest they should make a show of Dorian coming up to her chambers one night, when they reached the upper floor of the tavern.

"Dorian, you said before I could ask you questions," Cole called out in greeting.

"It's true. I did say that," Dorian replied, somewhat hesitantly.

"Why are you so angry at your father?" the spirit asked.

The question, as innocently as it was asked, caused Evelyn to nibble her lower lip in worry. She doubted that her fellow mage was ready for this type conversation.

Cole tilted his head to the side, like an inquisitive puppy. "He wants to help and you know he does, but..."

"I'm not certain I can explain it to you," Dorian stated, glancing at Evelyn with pleading eyes.

"You love him, but you're angry. They mix together, boiling in the belly until it kneads into a knot," Cole replied, looking bewildered.

Thankfully, at that moment, both Bull and Krem saved them from continuing the painful conversation. Trevelyan gave an inaudible sigh of relief, and was sorely tempted to kiss them both in thanks.

"Drinks!" the Qunari announced, brandishing a tray heavily laden with beer filled steins and bottles of deep, red wine.

"And food. Even got some peeled grapes, for you fancy types" Krem added, winking at his fellow Tevinter.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the third section of the tenth chapter, that was very originally a oneshot called: Presumptions. Chapter title is inspired by the LeAnn Rimes song of the same name. I know it doesn't fit perfectly fit, but I felt it had the same vibe. Friends banding together to cheer someone up.**


	45. Heartbeat

**Heartbeat **(Cullen PoV)

Cullen had spent the past half hour pacing his small office, trying to decide whether or not to comply with the Inquisitor's request. On the one hand, Evelyn had specifically invited him, something she hadn't done before. On the other… well, Cullen didn't know where he stood with her. Not given their flirting and her closeness with Dorian. In his mind, the situation was a mess. Yet Cullen still found himself changing out of his armour, in favour of the brown breeches and white cotton shirt, he had worn for the dance practise before the Ball. He checked his appearance in the small mirror that hung by his desk, before setting off across the battlements towards the tavern.

Crisp mountain air had Cullen walking briskly, and he entered the upper floor via one of the still ruined towers. To his relief, he found the group immediately. They were gathered on the top floor, away from the masses, and huddled around a small, battered table. One that had obviously been appropriated from somewhere else in the keep, perhaps even the room he had just entered from.

The smile that had started to form on Cullen's lips faltered when he noticed the Inquisitor. In truth, as much as his heart quickened it's pace at the merely sight of her, the scene in front of him caused Cullen's heart to sink. Evelyn was perched on Dorian's knee, her feet propped unceremoniously on Varric's chair, whilst the Iron Bull reached over the oak table to fondle her cropped red hair.

"Plus, you folks have redheads," the Qunari was saying, evidently finishing an explanation. The chuckle Bull gave was nothing short of lecherous. "Redheads…" he repeated, grinning at Trevelyan in a way that made Cullen feel slightly sick.

"An excellent choice," Dorian stated suddenly.

The mage didn't even turn away from his fellow Tevinter, who he had been in deep conversation with just moments before. Though his arm did seem to tighten around Evelyn's waist.

"However, you know what they say, it takes a real man to handle a redhead," Dorian concluded.

"I can assure you, I'm all man," Bull leered, turning the same predatorial smile on the Tevinter.

"Speaking from experience, eh Sparkler?" Varric interrupted, evidently trying to steer the conversation away from the Qunari's statement.

At the same instance, Evelyn asked: "Alright Bull, spill it… me or Leliana?"

"Okay, I like your question better, Beautiful," Varric conceded. Merrily clicking tankards with Evelyn as he spoke.

Despite himself, Cullen couldn't help but chuckle at Bull's thoughtful expression. In his mind, there was no competition. As nice as Leliana was, well… she wasn't… Sera's sudden laughter interrupted his thoughts.

"Who cares what he thinks. More important people to ask. Like the commander, because… well, he likes Trevi and _you_," the elf leant over the table and pointed a finger at the Inquisitor, before tapping her on the nose. "Like him too."

At that moment, the Iron Bull looked up, and noticed Cullen. He was the first of the group to do so. As Cullen had simply stood rooted to the spot, just inside the threshold, observing the seven friends.

"Commander! Tell us… who is better? Boss or the spy master?" the Qunari bellowed.

"Better?! You make it sound like he's already seduced them," Dorian scolded, tutting as he did. "A more appropriate question would be: Which of the two beautiful ladies in question, do you consider the lovelier, commander?"

To Cullen's dismay, he found himself floundering to reply, whilst Cole asked Evelyn: "_Is_ that a more appropriate question?"

"No," the Inquisitor replied, smiling kindly.

Evelyn patted the strange boy on the hand, before gracefully moving to stand. She levelled Cullen an amused gaze, then quickly closed the distance between them. Her steps were as light as a deer, as she bounced up the short flight of stairs to join him.

"Come on," the Inquisitor chuckled.

Without hesitation, she linked their arms together, smiling up at Cullen as she did. Gently, Evelyn pulled him back through the door that he had not long enter. And they left a chorus of catcalls and wolf whistles in their wake. Unsurprisingly, a blush began to creep up Cullen's neck, though he endeavoured to return Evelyn's easy smile.

"At your service," Cullen replied gallantly. Silently thankful that he had finally managed to find his voice, and that he wasn't left stuttering.

"I thought we could talk, alone," she smiled, a voice taking on a slightly huskier tone.

"Alone? I… ah… mean, of course."

Well, the stuttering was back, much to Cullen's chagrin. As much as he hated it, being around Evelyn left him floundering just as much as trying to talk to Garnet did, back in the tower. However, Cullen was eternally thankful that the flickering torches, that were dotted along the battlements, cast such a dim light. And he was hopefully that his blushing would be concealed, for once.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the fourth section of the tenth chapter, that was very originally a oneshot called: Presumptions. Chapter title is inspired by the Enrique Inglesias song of the same name.**


	46. Closer

**Closer**

The brisk wind had turned biting, but instead of complaining, Trevelyan decided to use it to her advantage. Clad only in tawny coloured leather trews and a forest green tunic, she shivered slightly and held onto Cullen's arm a just little tighter, smiling as she inhaled his scent. Evelyn couldn't never give a name to it, but it was always a fresh smell, vaguely like pine trees.

"It's a… nice evening," the commander said suddenly.

Evelyn smiled, as she brought their walk to a halt. They stood at a section of wall, that would have afforded them a breath-taking view of the Frostback Mountains, if the sun hadn't already set.

"Yes, but the company certainly improves it," Trevelyan flirted, though she kept her eyes towards the view she could not see.

"It is certainly… bewitching," Cullen agreed, though there was an odd tone to his voice, almost lamenting.

For a moment, Trevelyan furrowed her brow, until… _'Andraste's Ass!'_ she cursed silently, sighing outwardly. Despite their flirting, and the dance at the Winter Palace, all her previous worry over the commander being a Templar, and his feelings towards mages, came flooding back. For Evelyn, the remembrance of that fact, made telling Cullen how she felt seem a _whole_ lot more complicated.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

The commander put an arm cautiously around her shoulders, and instinctively, Evelyn shifted her weight until she was leaning into him. It felt nice, if not a little awkward, and Trevelyan found herself slightly comforted by Cullen's body heat.

"You left the Templars," she started hesitantly. "But do you trust mages? Could you think of me as anything more?"

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the fifth section of the tenth chapter, that was very originally a oneshot called: Presumptions. Chapter title is inspired by the Tegan and Sera song of the same name.**


	47. We Might be Dead by Tomorrow

**We Might be Dead by Tomorrow ****(Cullen PoV)**

For a moment, Cullen's brain short circuited. His heart hammered in his chest, and his gaze stared blindly over the parapet. He could feel the blush intensify, as it crept further up his neck. And Cullen squeezed Evelyn's shoulder slightly, just to make sure this wasn't a dream. She was real enough, but he was unsure if he had heard her right. However, the Inquisitor's next words reached him faintly, over the drumming of his heartbeat. Though Cullen suddenly realise he must have been silent for longer than he thought.

"Please, forget I said anything," Evelyn said, her gentle voice barely above a whisper.

"I could. I mean I… I do… think of you. And what I might do in this sort of situation," Cullen insisted.

As much as he usually hated the way he stumbled over his words in the Inquisitor's presence, Cullen didn't care one iota for his stammering at that moment. All he cared about was the woman who was moving out of his grasp, and desperately wanted to try and think of a way to halt her withdrawal.

"What's stopping you?" Evelyn asked earnestly.

She looked up at him then, her verdant eyes glimmering like emeralds, from beneath her lashes. The flickering torch light enhanced the red tones of Evelyn's cropped, tousled locks. And her lips were a slightly darker red than usual, which Cullen attested to the wine she had undoubtedly shared with the others. She looked beautiful, and completely unattainable. However, Cullen still couldn't resist taking her small hands in his, as they stood facing each other.

'_A million reasons'_ he thought glumly. Though thankful, he managed to keep that self-depreciating voice purely inside his mind. Instead, he replied: "You're the Inquisitor, we're at war and you… I didn't think it was possible."

Unable to fight the impulse, Cullen cupped Evelyn's cheek with the palm of his hand. Her skin was as soft as silk. Just as soft as Cullen had imagined it to be, when he allowed himself to think of her in the lonely, twilight hours. It was maddening, how much he wanted to kiss her inviting lips. And as unbelievable as it seemed, the mesmerising woman in front of him, seemed to be interested in him too. Cullen couldn't understand why. He was nothing special, just a broken and scarred ex-Templar. A recovering lyrium addict, who was often wracked with pain during the day, and tormented by nightmares at night.

Then reality caught up with Cullen. There was no way the inquisitor had feelings for him. Evelyn already had someone. A man who was handsome, charming, charismatic, exotic and debonair. There was simply no way she was serious in what she had said. Cullen didn't think Evelyn the type of woman to be cruel or manipulative. She must have made some sort of arrangement with her lover, because they both felt sorry for him. It was the only explanation Cullen could think of.

"And I know you're with Dorian," he added, letting his hand fall to his side.

Evelyn's eyes widened, and for an awful moment, Cullen thought she might cry. Instead, she started to laugh. It began as a giggle, then gained momentum. Before Cullen knew it, he was left gaping at an Inquisitor, who had slid to the floor clutching her stomach, as tears rolled down her cheeks. Unsure what else to do, he crouched down beside her. Choosing to wait until the laughter had subsided. Within minutes, Evelyn had regained her composure, and was smiling ruefully at him.

"Seriously?!" she demanded, humour heavily lacing her voice. "Cullen, _you _have more chance with Dorian than I do."

He looked at her quizzically, until realisation struck. "Oh," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Feeling more than a little foolish.

"Oh, indeed!" Evelyn chortled, rolling her eyes. "As charming and delightful as my best friend is, my tastes run more towards ruggedly handsome ex-Templars. The type with kind hearts, and the tendency to overwork themselves."

For a moment, Cullen merely stared at the stunning woman in front of him, as her words sunk in. His heart hammering in his chest, as his mind tried to wrap itself around the fact that... Yes, she wanted him too. Then, the urge to kiss her returned, tenfold. Gently, Cullen returned his hands to Evelyn's face, tilting her chin up to give him better access to her lips.

"It seems too good to be true," he murmured.

Time seemed to be frozen, as if trapped in a Winter's Grasp spell. Cullen's whole body ached for her, and he was acutely aware of everything about her. The softness of Evelyn's cropped red hair as he pushed a rouge lock away from her eyes. The faint shine of green beneath her half-closed lids. The coolness of her skin, as he ran his thumb over her cheek. Vaguely Cullen hope she wasn't able to hear the frantic beating of his heart, as he leant in close to her. He was lost in Evelyn's siren call, and intent on capturing her luscious red lips with his…

"Commander!" a voice called out, shattering their moment. "You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report."

Armour clad footsteps came to an abrupt halt, as the owner of the voice evidently spotted them, and realised the position Cullen and the Inquisitor were in. Barely keeping his annoyance in check, Cullen stood in a swift motion, one that belied how the cold had seeped into his joints. He rounded on the hapless messenger, shooting the man a withering look.

"Ah, to your office. Right. Right away." The recruit demonstrated textbook self-preservation skills, and beat a hasty retreat.

"If I knew you were that fierce, I'd have already dragged you to accompany me whilst I traipse all around Thedas," Evelyn giggled once they were alone again, having already moved to stand.

Barely sparing time to smile, Cullen closed the distance between them once again. His lips met Evelyn's, hot and demanding. It was not the way he had intended to kiss her, but Cullen couldn't help but pour his pent up emotions for her, into the searing show of devotion. To his delight, Evelyn moaned softly, as her hands found purchase on his shoulders. The temptation to deepen the kiss simmered through Cullen's veins, however his conscious got the better of him. Reluctantly, he pulled away. He placed a small tender kiss on her now swollen lips as way of apology.

"I'm sorry," Cullen murmured, agonisingly aware of how forward and inappropriate his actions were. "That was…"

"_Exactly_ what I wanted," Evelyn finished the sentence for him. She sounded a little out of breath, and was smirking slightly, as her hands crept up to clasp behind his neck.

Her confident assurance flooded Cullen with relief, her actions adding fuel to fire that burned within him. "Good," he surmised, before capturing her lips again.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This was originally the final section of the tenth chapter, that was very originally a oneshot called: Presumptions. Chapter title is inspired by the SoKo song of the same title, the song used in the: First Kiss video that went a little viral a while back.  
And yes... the mighty edit/rewrite/overhaul continues!  
**


	48. Jealous

**Jealous **(Solas PoV)

He startled in surprise. The sound that the Inquisitor emitted... He hadn't known humans could make such a noise. It was like nothing Solas had ever heard her make before, even during their one night of misbegotten intimacy in the Fade. He had tried diligently to move away from that fateful night. To tell himself it was Evelyn's magic, _his _magic embedded in her, that made him want a _shemlen_.

That plan had begun to falter the very morning after, when his chest had constricted to see the way she looked at the commander... then it had begun to crack when she had kissed his cheek and whispered 'Thank You', so soft and genuine that it made his sensitive ear twitch.

The plan had further crumbled when he'd watched the Inquisitor spar with the Tevinter, she moved with a grace that could have put Mythal to shame. Only her rounded ears had reminded him that she was a human, a shemlen, an enemy of the people. Yet Solas had still enjoyed the way her hips had swayed when she stalked around him. Something she hadn't done with the Tevinter, he had noticed, despite their obvious closeness. It all but broken when she had curtsied to him, low and elegantly, during the ambassador's dance rehearsal.

This shemlen didn't know who he really was, how could she? When he merely represented himself as an apostate elf... and yet... Evelyn vehemently protested when _any_ went to treat him as lesser than a human. It surprised Solas greatly, has did her treatment of her elven servant. No, that was a disservice, to both young women. To the Inquisitor and Nadia alike. He had heard the phrase of Lady-in-Waiting, and knew it to be a high title for one born out of nobility. Yet he had witnessed how Evelyn treated the little da'len, fawning over the younger woman as a little sister, rather than an assistant. It puzzled, surprised and warmed him... much to his consternation.

Now, the plan was in tatters. Shattered completely in the wake of Halamshiral. In the fleeting look of disappointment when he had all but refused her request of a dance. In the way she had taken his arm, and once again kissed his cheek, not caring for the gossip or how it would reflect badly upon on her. Not to mention how his throat had gone dry when she had stated her belief that Andraste and Shartan had been lovers. It didn't matter that her belief was fallacy, and he should know... since Shartan was just another mask he had worn, another guise just as Solas was. But still...

However, none of that mattered now, as he watched the Inquisitor run to a fairly handsome, human male. He tried to hide his scowl as he witnessed her throw her arms around his neck and bury her face into his chest. He almost succeeded, until he heard her yelp. Actually yelp, a sound far more excited than the squeal she had made earlier.

His traitorous heart raged when he watched the Inquisitor _fling _herself at a second human male. A _Templar_, no less, and actually wrap her legs around his waist as he spun her. It sickened him to watch her degrade herself so... though a small part of his brain rebelled. Questioning whether he was more bothered that the Inquisitor wasn't displaying that sort of affection with _him_. Schooling his face, Solas tried not to laugh to himself... at himself.

There was positively no way he was jealous.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the first part of chapter eleven. Obviously, it's from Solas PoV, as I felt it was needed right now. Chapter title &amp; slight them is inspired by the Robert Palmer song of the same name.**


	49. Grenade

**Grenade **(Cullen PoV)

For one brilliant, ludicrous, embarrassing moment, he thought she was running to him. However, before he made a fool of himself, Cullen noticed her emerald eyes were looking past him. Evelyn didn't even spare him a glance as she flung her arms around a handsome man's neck. In truth, he couldn't really blame her, the man who's arms she was currently cradled in practically screamed of noble blood. Not in a pompous way that Orlesians' did, but in a more quiet and refined way. A gentlemanly way, and a gentleman was what a woman... no lady, like Evelyn deserved.

However, Cullen's jaw fell open in astonishment when he watched her duck under the man's arms, and throw herself into the embrace of another. Whereas the first greeting seemed gentile and politely affectionate, the second was anything but. Evelyn kissed the man. Nothing as intimate, heart-stopping or restless-sleep-inducing as the one they had shared on the battlements, just two evenings previously. But still, she kissed him. In clear view of the rest of the courtyard... and if that wasn't enough, Evelyn wrapped her legs around the man's waist, smiling widely whilst he spun her.

If Cullen thought seeing her with Dorian was hard to bare, obviously before he realised that their relationship was not _that _way inclined, this was a thousand times harder. The painful stab to his heart was felt all the more keenly, when he realised that the man Evelyn clung to so readily was, in fact, a Templar.

He was probably a lover she had since her time in the Ostwick circle, and she was so happy to see him... Cullen felt utterly confused by their shared kissed. Had she though the Templar was dead, and was looking to move on? Or was their painfully short moment together, nothing more than a brief interlude, Evelyn simply scratching some sort of itch? Was he nothing more than a sub-par replacement until her lover returned?

Whatever the answer, whatever her reason, Cullen felt bitter. Betrayed. It hurt to watch how happy Evelyn looked, and yet... he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from her beautiful face. No matter how much it pained him.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Originally the second section of chapter eleven, and obviously from Cullen's PoV, to contrast with Solas' over the same scene. Chapter title &amp; slight theme inspired by the Bruno Mars song of the same name.**


	50. Family

**Family**

It mortified her, but Trevelyan simply couldn't help it. The high pitched squeal that escaped her was completely involuntary, and utterly undignified. It earned Evelyn quizzical looks from those around her, especially Solas, Dorian and Varric. Though she paid them little mind, as she hurtled down the steps to the lower courtyard.

Vaguely, she heard Sera yell: "What's got Trevi's knickers in a twist?"

But she still didn't stop, not even pausing to greet Cullen as she ran past. In the back of her mind, Trevelyan felt a little guilty for that, especially since she hadn't had chance to speak to him since their first, and only, kiss two days ago. However, she currently only had one goal in mind, one target... A tall, handsome man with short chestnut brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard and vivid green eyes. A nobleman who had just arrived.

"Maxwell!" she shouted, gleefully.

Not wasting a moment of time, Evelyn threw her arms around his neck. Her eldest brother chuckled in response, tightening his own arms around her.

"Hello Evie..." His deep voice was as rich and as warm as ever.

Trevelyan was thrilled to see Maxwell again, and that he wasn't wearing his armour for a change. His plum coloured, velvet doublet, was a lot more comfortable to bury her face in. She inhaled greedily, happily. Breathing in his familiar sandalwood scent, as he kissed the top of her head.

"Maker's balls! I've missed you," she sighed, contentedly.

"And what am I, chopped liver?"

Peering around Maxwell's arm, Evelyn regarded the only Templar she had never been wary off. A handsome man, only five summers older than herself. His wavy, shoulder length hair had a coppery tone to it. I was almost the perfect blend of Maxwell's chestnut shade, and Evelyn's more cinnamon hue. Unlike House Trevelyan's heir, the Templar was clean shaven, and his green eyes were twinkling with amusement.

"Daylen!" Evelyn yelped, ducking out of Maxwell's arms and running to hug her other brother. "I hadn't dared hope," she breathed, giving him a chaste kiss.

With a huff of laughter, Daylen picked her clean off the ground. Despite his armour, Evelyn wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, not trusting her brother not to drop her as he spun her round. After all, he had done that plenty of times before, when they were growing up.

"So who's the man currently glaring at us? One of your many lovers?" he asked impishly, setting her back neatly on the ground.

Trevelyan glanced in the direction Daylen was looking, slightly surprised to find Cullen regarding them with a frown etched onto his face. She raised an eyebrow at the commander, but couldn't do much else, as her brother still had his arms wrapped around her waist.

"And the elf?" Maxwell added, coming to sling an arm around Evelyn's shoulders. "He's got to be a mage, he's got the same look you do when you're debating throwing a fireball at someone."

Looking up at Solas' tightly schooled face, Trevelyan elbowed her eldest brother lightly in the ribs. "Ass," she chuckled.

Deftly, Evelyn laced her right hand with Maxwell's left. Then linked her left arm through Daylen's right, not wanting to risk having her fingers crushed by his gauntlets. Happy that she had a hold on both of them, she tugged them forward.

"Play nice you two..." she warned, smiling.

Evelyn's two older brothers tended to be the overprotective sort, especially when it came to her love life. Maxwell had spent hours teaching her how to block swords and shield attacks with her staff. Daylen had gone against his own vows, and taught her how to defend from Templar attacks, always in secret of course. They had both come to respect her as a person and as a fighter. However, neither had even been able to remain unconcerned about their 'baby' sister's relationships.

"Don't know what you're on about, Dragonling," Daylen grinned, unashamedly using his pet-name for her, even though they drew near the group of her assembled friends.

"Dragonling?" Varric chuckled, eyeing Evelyn with amusement.

She gave the dwarf her best faux-scowl. "Don't even think it, Handsome!"

Varric help up his hands in surrender. "Beautiful it remains then," he teased.

"A dwarf? Now there's something I didn't expect from you," Maxwell stated, raising an eyebrow at her.

Trevelyan sighed dramatically, leaning against her eldest brother's arm for effect. "Alas, my hopes have long since been dashed. My heart broken and love forsaken for the beautiful Bianca."

She sighed again, looking up at Maxwell and batting her eyelashes. A guffawing laughter emanated from Daylen, followed by chuckles from Varric and Dorian.

"Do you think you can wait until I have my notepad, before your next bout of dramatics?" the dwarf teased. "That was literary gold."

Giggling, Evelyn shook her head. "Maxwell, Daylen allow me to introduce the famed Varric Tethras, writer and rouge extraordinaire," she stated, grinning. "Varric... my two annoying, older brothers!"

After shaking hands with the dwarf, her eldest bother slung his arm back around her shoulders. "And to answer my earlier question..."

Rolling her eyes, she snaked her right arm around his waist. "Solas, meet House Trevelyan's heir," she gestured to Maxwell, then Daylen. "And an idiotic Templar."

"I feel so loved..." her closest brother groused.

"And this is Solas," Evelyn continued, pointedly ignoring Daylen. "Arcane researcher, Fade walker and fellow apostate," she stated proudly.

"Grandma Rosa would love him," Daylen chuckled, nodding respectfully to the elf.

The gesture seemed to surprise Solas, for the his eyes visibly widened for a moment.

"So would Madame Shianna," Maxwell added. "You do know she's still telling mother you need to 'find a nice elven man and settle down'?"

"Doesn't that go against Grandma's idea that I need to produce a hoard of grandbabies with a farmer's son, or the like?" Evelyn asked glibly, trying not to laugh at the startled looks on her friend's faces, especially Cullen's.

"You're family sound like a veritable hoot," Dorian observed, dryly.

"Mad as march hares," she agreed

Evelyn didn't bothering to hide her pride as she spoke. Her grandmother being Chasind wasn't the only secret House Trevelyan had. Really, all of her immediate family were black sheep. Her parents, siblings and paternal grandparents all having equally radical views of rights of equality and so forth.

"Now, answer my question," Daylen cajoled, bumping his hip into hers.

Once again rolling her eyes, Evelyn chuckled. "Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath," she recited, remembering the court announcer's introduction, word for word. "Commander of the Inquisition forces and former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall."

"Maker's breath," Cullen muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You remembered all that?"

"It was almost as bad as Cassandra's," she teased. Trevelyan shrugged when Maxwell gave her a questioning look. "We all had some quite ostentatious introductions whilst wading through the mire of Halamshiral."

"And...?" Daylen prompted, crossing his arms and giving her a pointed look.

Knowing exactly what her brother was meaning, but refusing to give him any details. At least... not in front of an audience. Trevelyan stepped toward her best friend, and linked her arm through his. "Lord Dorian of House Pavus."

"Pavus? Of Tevinter?" her eldest brother asked.

"Most recently of Minrathous," Dorian replied, inclining his head. Though his seductive voice remained even, Evelyn could feel how he tensed at the question.

However, Maxwell merely smiled. "Kin," he stated simply. "Distant... but still..."

"Another excellent reason you're my best friend," Dorian grinned, kissing the top of Evelyn's head.

Evelyn chuckled as she felt him relax. "Well, now that's all settled... Varric, would you mind rounding up the rest of our motley crew? I'll never get any peace if I don't introduce these two to everyone."

"Sure thing, Beautiful," he agreed, already turning to climb the stairs to the upper courtyard.

"Oh, and make sure Cassandra comes too," she added, before giving Maxwell a pointed look.

When he raised an eyebrow at her, Evelyn simply smiled, sickly sweet.

"Pentaghast. Royal family of Nevarra." Upon noticing his scowl, she giggled. "Oh don't look at me like that, you two do it to me enough." She took his hand, guiding him up the staircase. "Besides, she's a warrior... she'd easily put you on your ass."

"_That_ I would love to see," Daylen proclaimed, as he jogged up the stairs after them.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the third part of the eleventh chapter, and was meant to explain what Cullen &amp; Solas were witnessing, as well as introduce more of Trevelyan's background. Chapter title inspired by the Dolly Parton song of the same name. Chapter them inspired by the following KinkMeme prompt:**

**Quizzy has several brothers who join the Inquisitor/visit Skyold or whathaveyou. They notice Cullen's behaviour around their sister and decide to have a chat with him regarding his intentions. How Cullen reacts is up to a!a. Nonestablished relationship.  
++++ sibling love between Quizzy and her brothers. They're her best friends.  
++ class differences  
\+ vague/default Quizzy  
+++ overprotective brothers  
**


	51. Brothers and Sisters

**Brothers and Sisters **

Evelyn sat with her back to the hearth, the fire's warm glow bathing the room in a comforting light. A small smile tugged at her lips as she read aloud, her voice low and quiet, retelling the tale of the Champion of Kirkwall. Cole's head was pillowed on her lap, his icy eyes closed, and Nadia leant sleepily against her shoulder.

Footsteps could be heard ascending the stone steps that led to her chamber, even and unhurried. Trevelyan didn't pay them much mind. Up until this morning, there had been only two people, Nadia and Dorian, who would come to her bedchamber without knocking. The arrival of her brothers now meant there were four. And since Nadia was almost dozing against Evelyn's shoulder, that only three culprits remained. A mass of coppery hair, and a pair of mischievous green eyes, appeared over the railing that separated the room from the stairwell.

"Looks like you became a big sister without our parents' help," Daylen teased.

At his voice, Nadia roused from her dozing state and smiled sheepishly at Evelyn, before tapping Cole on the head. "Walk me to my room?" she requested.

Whilst the pair left her chamber, after 'good nights' had been bid in the way of affectionate hugs, Trevelyan placed the book on her desk. Daylen had wasted no time in shucking off his boots, and all but jumping on her bed. Evelyn caught the pillow he had aimed at her head with ease, then kicked off her own boots to join him. She was eternally grateful he'd long since changed out of his Templar armour, opting for grey woollen trews and a dark blue tunic. Trevelyan was similarly dressed, russet cotton trews and a embroidered, cream tunic. It made cuddling up with her brother a lot easier. A comfortable silence settled between them, reminiscent of a time before she was sent to the circle.

"Max seems rather taken with your Cassandra," Daylen said at last, his voice sounding a little sleepy.

"I could say the same for you and Dorian," Evelyn giggled. "The looks you too were giving each other... Maker Day! I thought you two were going to cause a political incident during dinner."

Daylen's chuckle reverberant through his chest, jostling her head as it lay on his shoulder. "Hardly. Those Orlesians were much more concerned about you and that dashing commander. Which brings me to the point of my visit..."

Whimpering pitifully, Evelyn looked up at her brother, eyes wide like a puppy dog's. "You didn't just want to spend time with your little sister?" She sniffed, for added effect.

Her antics drew a wide grin. "Hush Dragonling," Daylen chided. "You know it's better I ask about you and the commander, Max would be a lot more..."

"Frantic?" Trevelyan supplied, and both laughed at their older brother's expense. "We've kissed... once," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. "But that was two days ago."

"And the elf?"

"Solas?" she asked in surprise.

Evelyn nibbled her lower lip, trying to decide how best to explain their relationship. There was no way she was going to say she'd slept with him, in the Fade of all places. As easy going as Daylen was, he could be just as bad as Maxwell with his overprotectiveness.

"He's a very dear friend," she said at length. "And I owe him my life... I'm still not sure how he managed it, but he kept me alive after the conclave."

Glancing up, Evelyn noticed Daylen was regarding with a raised eyebrow, silently insinuating he thought their was more she was not telling him.

"And that fresco he's painting? It seems to be about your deeds..." he stated.

Trevelyan shrugged. "Solas is a very private person, his motivations and reasons are his own," she said as way of explanation.

In truth, Evelyn hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask the elf why he was painting. She usually got too lost in admiring the artistry of the fresco anyway. Or became mesmerised watching Solas work. Either way, Trevelyan only remembered to ask why Solas was painting, after she left the rotunda.

Thoughts of that slipped away, however, as the comfortable silence returned. Evelyn found herself being lulled to sleep by her brother's rhythmic, even breathing. Being curled up on her bed like this, reminded her of so many happy memories from their childhood. Even some from her time in the circle, the sporadic but joyous nights they'd been allowed to simply be siblings again.

Though, just as the Fade claimed her, Evelyn heard Daylen mutter: "They are both in love with you, you know."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was originally the second to last section of the eleventh chapter. Chapter title is inspired by the Coldplay song of the same name.**


	52. Bad Things

**Bad Things**

The next morning was bright and cheerful, and Trevelyan found herself and Nadia, surrounded by a gaggle of children. Evelyn was never exactly sure how this happened. But at least once a week since coming to Skyhold, she would find herself in the herb garden, with a host of children gathered around her. Thinking about it, Evelyn supposed it first started when she offered to take the you mages off Fiona's hands for a few hours, and sought to teach them some basic herbalism.

After a week or so, it had expanded to included a host of elven children, that Nadia had taken to minding, whilst their parents worked for the Inquisition. Now, as well as young mages and elves, the horde of children included offspring of soldiers, refugees, staff and visiting nobles a like. It was loud, raucous, motley crew... but Evelyn rather loved them.

Currently clothed in the deep purple, knee-length dress her mother had sent as a gift, Evelyn sat with a blonde girl curled up in her lap, who was happily braiding several blades of grass together. The child was the cook's granddaughter, and couldn't have been more than five or six summers old.

Trevelyan gave a contented sigh. Even in the high, frigid altitude of the Frostback mountains, Skyhold's herb garden was a cheerful, normally sunny haven from the cold. The snow and frost that affected the rest of the keep, seemed unable to penetrate the secluded courtyard. It was as if magic had infused the place, warming the very soil. This was made all the more evident, when a flower crown of elfroot and daisies, was suddenly deposited on Evelyn's head.

Tilting herself backwards and resting on her elbows, Trevelyan smiled up at the young human boy. If she were to hazard a guess, he was about eight summers old. His strawberry-blonde hair and large brown eyes reminded her of a certain commander. As did the way he blushed furiously, before running to a woman who must have been his mother. A pretty blonde with the same doe-like brown eyes, and who also had a passing resemblance for the commander.

Before Evelyn could ponder this, a little hand patted her shoulder. "Miss... miss Evie?" a dainty elven girl said, a little hesitantly.

"Yes Mira?" Trevelyan asked, ruffling the girls short black hair. A small face peeked out from the young girl's back. "And Mihwen," she smiled. "What can I do for you two?"

The youngest girl crept from behind her sister, a ring of elfroot and yarrow clasped in her little hands. Looking a little nervous, Mihwen shuffled closer and leant to whisper into Evelyn's ear.

"Would you give this to... to hahren?" she asked shyly, her small voice almost a squeak.

Trying not to chuckle, Trevelyan gently dislodged the girl still happily weaving grass. "Up you come, Hannah," she said gently.

The girl complied, though quickly flopped herself down again in the sun warmed grass. Gingerly, Evelyn stood. Carefully stretching aching muscles, that had cramped from sitting cross-legged for far too long. A tug at the hem of her dress halted her hunt for Solas, and turning she was greeted by two more young girls, one human and one dwarven, each holding out a flower crown. One of elfroot and blue cornflowers, the other of elfroot and daisies. Though this one was much large than the one that had slipped down to rest across Evelyn's forehead.

After a few minutes of blushing and toe shuffling, Trevelyan managed to wheedle out the names of the intended recipients. Namely Cullen and the Iron Bull. Unable to help herself, Evelyn grinned widely at the image of the massive Qunari wearing a flower crown. Even Nadia giggled when she over heard. Leaving her all-but-adopted sister minding the children, Trevelyan went off to make her first delivery.

As she walked through the courtyard, Evelyn still proudly wore her lopsided flower crown. Much to the bemusement of several nobles that she passed, if the looks they were giving her, were any indication. Squinting against the dramatic change of lighting, Evelyn tried not to let the sudden dimness make her scowl, as she crossed the width of the main hall towards the rotunda. As expected, she found Solas bent over his desk, his elegant fingers tracing along ancient scrawl in yet another dusty tome. For a moment, the sight mesmerised her/

"Have you come to seek a hiding spot under my desk again, lethallan?" he asked without looking up.

_'Smart ass'_ she thought, quickly coming out of her unexpected revere. "No... no evil, soul sucking ambassador is trying to kill me with overly gaudy fabric swatches today," Evelyn declared.

Without hesitation, Trevelyan walked over to his desk, and stood in front of him. When Solas still didn't look up from his tome, Evelyn placed a hand under his chin, and tilted his face to look at her. How Solas could look both curious and indignant was beyond her. It was oddly... cute. Unable to help herself, Trevelyan grinned widely at him.

"I come baring a gift," she explained, deftly moving around the desk, as his gaze slowly moved up to the flower crown on her head. "Though I doubt yours will stay put, since you have your head buried in a book so much."

Carefully, Evelyn teases apart a yarrow stalk from it's elfroot neighbour, so she could fasten the chain around Solas' neck. The elf gave a slight huff, almost a sigh of resignation mixed with a snort of laughter. Though he bent his head forward, allowing Evelyn to fasten the flower chain, all the same.

"And you made this?" Solas asked, a teasing note to his voice.

"No," Trevelyan chuckled. "I'm not that skilled. It is a gift for 'hahren', from Mira and Mihwen, two fans of yours. Their father helps Master Dennet with the Harts."

Unexpectedly, Solas turned to face her then. The movement quick and sharp, catching Evelyn by surprise. Because she had only just finished securing the flower chain, Trevelyan's hands slip for Solas' neck, and came to rest flat against the broad plain of his chest. Unwittingly, Evelyn's gaze fell to his lips. A remembered warmth began to bloom in her, and she swallowed thickly. Trevelyan could feel Solas' breath on her skin, and it seemed to becoming faster than their stationary status should allow. They were stood far closer, than propriety would allow. But for some reason, Evelyn felt unable to pull herself away from him.

Gently, Solas ran a hand up her arm. Starting at her wrist, and slowly gliding upwards until his hand closed around her upper arm. There was the slightest of movement, on both their parts, that brought them impossibly closer together. Their torsos were almost flush, save for Evelyn's hands sandwiched between them. Slowly, Trevelyan raised her eyes to meet Solas' stormy gaze, and for several heartbeats, she was left to wonder at his unreadable look.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Okay, this chapter proved super hard to title. Mainly because it was partially inspired by the KinkMeme prompt: ****I just really, really want a big old pile of kidfic fluff with all the Skyhold crew fussing after a kid. As well as a second prompt that will be revealed in the next chapter.  
In the end, I went with a Jace Everett song to title this chapter. I thought it sort of fit with Solas/Trevi... especially with Solas thinking: 'She's a human' &amp; Trevi thinking: 'I want Cullen'.**


	53. I'll Be There For You

**I'll Be There For You**

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" Dorian drawled, as he stepped into the rotunda from the library stairs.

"Don't mind us," Daylen said at the same time. "Nice crown by the way, Dragonling."

Laughing, Evelyn stepped away from Solas. Though she felt a little sheepish, with her heart still pounding uncontrollably. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure what had just happened. But if the faintly pink tinge to the tip of Solas' ears where any indication, Evelyn wasn't the only one affected by it. Internally shaking herself, Evelyn plastered on a smile, and gave her brother a shallow bow, careful not to dislodge her head wear.

"Why thank you," Trevelyan retorted, her voice neutral despite her elevated heart.

"And I see our resident elven ho..." her best friend began.

"Dorian..." she chided, her voice low with warning.

"Apostate... has one too," Dorian continued, glibly. Not missing a beat, despite Evelyn's interruption.

"Jalan's girls have taken quiet a shine to him," Evelyn explained, deciding it best to move the conversation along.

However, Evelyn found herself trying not to giggle, at Solas' slightly perplexed expression. The elf really did look quite cute, at times. Mainly when he was confused by something. His head would tilt ever so slightly, a small furrow would appear between his brows, and... Evelyn's favourite, his ears would twitch slightly. It always had her biting back a smile.

"Do you know everyone's names?" Solas asked, sounding surprised.

Shame washed over her quickly. "Not as many as I should," Trevelyan replied, her eyes downcast.

There was a snort from her brother. "In case you need that translating from Dragonling, that means she knows all of the children, most of the servants, and at least half of the recruits," Daylen quipped.

A slightly crooked smile tugged at his mouth, and he pushed a lock of his copper hair behind his ear. Trevelyan groaned inwardly, she knew her brother's tells by now... he was about to say something embarrassing. There was no way to stop the inevitable, trying would only make Daylen reveal a bigger secret. All Evelyn could do, was hope it wasn't _too _embarrassing.

"Do you remember when you were little?" he asked. "You'd would persuade any new member of staff to wear little name tags, until you could remember their names. Everyone was so enamoured by an adorable little five year old ,trying to pronounce elven and dwarven names, that no one could say no to you. Actually... it was rather cute how you called Madame Shianna, Mamae Shiny for three years."

At hearing this, Dorian's eyes danced with amusement, and even Solas seemed to be holding back a grin. Shaking her head, Evelyn levelled her brother with a wry smile.

"And now that you have embarrassed me in front of my friends, dear brother, I will take my leave," she stated, nonchalantly.

When Daylen went to protest, Trevelyan held up a hand, the one still holding the other two flower crowns. To which, her brother raised an eyebrow in question.

"As Inquisitor, I am a busy woman," she said. "And as you can see, I have important deliveries to make."

With that, Evelyn strode purposefully towards the door that led to Cullen's office, leaving the three men chuckling behind her. Walking briskly to try stave off the cold wind, she hurried across the elevated walkway, thankful to find the commander's door unlocked. Knocking once just for manners sake, she pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside. However, the commander was nowhere to be seen.

Evelyn let out a disappointed huff. It would have been a lie, to say she wasn't hoping to steal another kiss from him, and not only to dispel the strange feeling left over from her encounter with Solas. After shaking her head, in a bid to clear it, Trevelyan deciding there was little point carrying the cornflower crown around with her. Gently, she placed it on Cullen's desk, before scribbling a quick explanatory note on a scrap of parchment.

There was no doubt in Trevelyan's mind as to where the Iron Bull would be, so she quickly headed across the battlements, to the ruined tower that adjoined the tavern. She said a quick hello to Cole and Sera, as she passed their respective hidey-holes. After descending the final flight of stairs, Evelyn found herself standing behind a jovial Qunari. Bull was obviously already deep into his cups. despite it being barely past noon. Giving Krem a quick wink, and Dalish an impish grin, Trevelyan deposited the daisy and elfroot chain unceremoniously atop Qunari's horned head. She and the Chargers watched in amusement, as the dainty crown slipped to cover his remaining eye.

"This some Chasind thing I've not heard about, Boss?" Bull rumbled, turning to face her.

"Sadly, no," Evelyn smiled, trying to readjust the crown for him. "One of your mini-admirers asked me to pass it on to you."

As it slipped again, Trevelyan couldn't help but pouted in annoyance. Which caused the Chargers to howl with laughter.

"Same admirer as you?" he grinned, pointing to her own crown.

"Actually no," Evelyn stated, finally deciding on another tactic as she gentle prised a daisy stalk away from an elfroot. "Hold still," she instructed.

Carefully, she began to wrap the chain around Bull's right horn. After several failed attempts, Evelyn finally got the flowers to stay secure... but only after Dalish had joined in the attempt, producing some spare leather cord to fasten it on with.

"Needs one for the other side," the not-a-mage proclaimed, once she'd finished admiring Trevelyan's handy work.

Without warning, Bull pushed his chair back and stood. When Evelyn raised an eyebrow at him, he returned an even stare, crossing his meaty arms across his broad chest. The Qunari would have looked intimidating, with his towering height, bulging muscles, and only one usable eye. However, the flower crown sort of damped the effect, to Evelyn at least.

"I'm not going to complete the set by sitting here," Bull stated, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And maybe it was... Trevelyan had only ever met one Qunari, and he was currently towering above her. With a shrug, she led him out of the tavern along with Krem. In companionable silence, the trio walked across the courtyard and up into the main hall. If any of the gathered nobles thought it odd that the Inquisitor and a seven foot Qunari were wearing flower crowns, they were wise enough not to mention it within hearing. Krem led the way into the herb garden, where they found Nadia still sitting surrounded by children. However Varric had also joined them, and as the dwarf looked up, a smile that could only be called a shit-eating-grin spread across his face.

Bull pointed a large, stubby finger at him. "Flower crowns are badass," he stated, his low tone brooking no argument.

"I wish Daisy was here to see this," Varric laughed, patting the grass beside him in invitation for them to sit with him.

Once settled, Evelyn regarded the gathered children who was sat, open mouthed, staring at Bull in awe. She indicated the the Qunari's left horn.

"We need another flower chain," she started.

In a sudden bustle of commotion, the children sprang up. The lot of them shrieking in delight, and racing around the small garden to gather supplies. It earned several disgruntled looks from the nobles that were milling about, but Evelyn didn't care one iota.

"What have you started?" Varric teased, bumping against her shoulder.

"Blackwall's beard would look pretty with some flowers braided in," Nadia stated, sounding almost dreamy, as Krem bent to kiss her cheek.

Trevelyan and Varric shared a look.

"On it," the dwarf grinned, wasting no time going off to find the warden.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**The main theme for this chapter was inspired by this KinkMeme prompt: Are those...flowers? They're PRETTY. I need this. For reasons. Maybe Cole is the one who starts it and the Inquisitor is eager to help, because why not? Maybe there is a rare moment of calm and silliness between Bull and his LI. Maybe Vivienne is bored and there are no gems around the camp, so flowers will do. Or maybe Bull got chewed by the dragon and this is how the gang (Krem included! And even Solas, omg!) gives their "get well soon" vibes while he is recovering. I don't care, how. Just make it happen. Also, Bull is cool with it and thinks his crown is badass.**

**Chapter title inspired by The Rembrandts song of the same name, because... even though I'm not a fan of 'Friends', I just couldn't help using it for this slightly silly/fluffy chapter.**


	54. The Greatest Thing

**The Greatest Thing**

Crestwood had been a wet, drippy, walking corpse infested, Fade-hole! They had rid Caer Bronach of highwaymen, unearthed caves that had been flooded for a decade, along with Mayor Dedrick's monstrous crime. They'd closed a massive rift along with several smaller ones, cleared out an aggressive wyvren infestation, and helped to cremate remains of victims of the flood, that had wiped out old Crestwood. That was all before meeting up with Hawke, Fenris and the champion's warden contact: Stroud.

With a plan devised, Stroud had made a hasty exit from Crestwood, since too many corrupted wardens were combing the area. Hawke and Fenris had magnanimously agreed to help clear out the remaining pockets of bandits from the area, before they too parted for the Western Approach. It had gone quite well. The two former Kirkwall residents falling back easily into their rhythm with Varric. They had also adapted well to fighting alongside Trevelyan, Solas and Cassandra. Really, the bandits and sporadic groups of venatori didn't stand a chance. They had even managed to take down a Northern Hunter, the dragon that had been plaguing the area for months.

However, all of this was conducted through the never ending deluge of frigid rain. It was bound to take it's toll... and so it did. When they had finally made camp, on what was their last night in the miserable area, things were a little subdued. Then again, they had just taken down a dragon, they all deserved some quiet respite. The pitter-patter of rain splattering the treated canvas of the tents was the main noise of the camp, accompanied by the spluttering hiss as the fire was doused by the deluge.

The six of them had paired off, and settled in the mouths of their closely pitched tents. All the door flaps having been propped open, with spindly tree branches collected from nearby, as a means to talk to each other if they wished. It was no surprise that Hawke and Fenris were sharing a tent, and Evelyn couldn't help but think the pair made an adorable couple. They were just... _right_ together. Trevelyan was sharing with Solas, not that she minded, at all. Yet she was still surprised, as it left Cassandra bunking with Varric, even more surprising was the pair weren't bickering like an old married couple. Yet.

As the evening wore on, conversation started to pick up, though mostly that was thanks to Varric's wild tale of how Hawke and Fenris had met. Which was at Cassandra's insistence... and even the tattoo elf had chuckled, upon realising that the seeker was such a romantic.

Solas had remained silent throughout the story, though it was obvious he was keenly interested, his stormy eyes flitting between the couple. It seemed he was almost studying them, and Evelyn wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because Fenris was a former slave, and maybe Solas was trying to figure out if his fellow elf had been coerced at all. Though it was rather evident that was not the case. The pair looked at each other with complete love and affection, sat side by side, equally leaning into the other with their hands clasped. And Solas still continued to regard them like they were some sort of puzzle. He was discrete enough, though by the end, Evelyn wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Is there something you wish to say?" Fenris asked suddenly.

His voice was gravelly, and his olive eyes were regarding the other elf. Though he remained relaxed against his lover, Fenris seemed tense. As if he was expecting to spring to Hawke's defence at any moment.

"Forgive me, but I have never seen an elven/human couple before," Solas stated politely.

Hawke laughed at that. "And here I thought you just didn't like public displays of affection."

"It's a good thing Garnet and Zevran are not here then," Fenris stated dryly.

"Zevran?" Evelyn blurted out, wondering if it could be the same elf that she'd dallied with all those years ago.

At the same time, Cassandra asked: "Who is Garnet?"

"The Hero of Fereldan. My... sister," Ruby admitted, almost hesitantly. "And her husband."

"Bella, I did not realise that such beauty could exist, twice. The Amell line must be blessed to produce such stunning, alluring creatures, no?" Varric mimicked, his Antivan accent almost prefect.

Ruby regarded Evelyn critically. "You know him...?" she said at length, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

"Slept with... knowing that elf," Varric teased.

Trevelyan could feel the weight of Solas' eyes upon her. "Perhaps," she admitted cautiously. "At least, a blonde elf by that name, making his way from Antiva to Fereldan."

"I still doubt he's from a guild of assassins," Fenris grumbled, his head dropping to lean against Hawke's shoulder.

"He's good friends with Isabela, what do you expect?" Ruby asked fondly, kissing the top of her lover's head.

"You said that you and the hero are sisters..." Cassandra began.

The sentence hung in the air, more as a question than a statement.

With a sigh, Hawke nodded her head. "Yes, I'm not sure if it's half sister or full. Neither is she. All we've been able to figure out, was that mother gave birth to her out of wedlock. And by the time she was taken to the tower, mother was heavily pregnant with me."

"Do you keep in contact?" Evelyn asked gently.

"As much as we can," Ruby smiled, though her tone was a little lamenting. "Carver even managed to meet her, during our wedding."

Fenris looked up at Hawke then, and his hand moved to clutch her thigh possessively.

"You are married?" Solas asked, sounding quite surprised.

"We are," Fenris replied, his tone and glare defiant. As if daring his fellow elf to make further comment.

Hawke silently rubbed her thumb along her husband's knuckles, not seeming to mind the fierce grip he had on her. "It was just after Kirkwall," she explained, her voice quiet but affectionate. "Sebastian was kind enough to conduct the ceremony, before he left for Starkhaven."

"Why did you not tell me this?" Cassandra demanded, glaring incredulously at Varric.

"I did say that all of us drifted away, _except_ for Fenris," the dwarf pointed out, chuckling. "And it's not the grand, romantic scene you are picturing ether, Seeker. Hawke wasn't wearing a white dress, Broody wasn't in formal attire."

"She was still a vision," Fenris interrupted.

"Fully armoured, covered in blood, dirt and grime. Staff still strapped to my back... I was certainly a sight," Hawke laughed, before a yawn abruptly cut her off. "Sorry," she apologised sheepishly.

By this time, the sun had well and truly set. The only light illuminating the camp was the scattering of werelights that Evelyn, Hawke and Solas had sporadically cast, in an effort to hold back the encroaching darkness. Out the corner of her eye, Trevelyan caught Varric trying to stifle a yawn as well. Which in turn, set herself and Cassandra off.

"It seems a consensus has been reach," Solas chuckled.

"Indeed," Fenris agreed, dryly.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So this was originally the first part of chapter fourteen. Really... it's purely to indulge my own headcannon. Chapter title is inspired by the most famous line in the Nat King Cole song 'Nature Boy': The greatest thing, you'll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return. Which I thought was a great way to sum up Hawke/Fenris (Warden/Zevran too). This chapter was also inspired by the following KinkMeme request:**

**Hawke and Fenris both come to Skyhold. Solas gets to witness a romantic relationship/marriage between a human and a elf for the first time and is just fascinated. If you'd like, it can lead to Solas/Trevelyan. I was just playing through da2 with a Fenris romance and wondered what Fen'harel would think of the pair.**


	55. Give Your Heart a Break

**Give Your Heart a Break**

It was more or less impossible, for Evelyn to tell how much time had passed, since her and Solas had settled down for the night. She was a little surprised at the respectful distance the elf was keeping, inspite of the closeness they had previously shared. Or perhaps it was because of it... really, Evelyn wasn't sure.

With some effort, Trevelyan stifled a sigh. Nothing had outwardly seemed to change between them, since their night in the Fade. Their friendship still seemed to be fully intact, they still worked well together and enjoyed each other's company. Solas had said one night, and Evelyn had taken him at his word... Now though, Daylen's words about Solas and Cullen _both_ being 'in love' with her, rattled around her mind.

Clad in only a pair of black silk sleeping shorts, and a plain cotton shirt, she lay in the darkness of the tent. Idly, Evelyn listened to the downpour of rain bouncing off the canvas above them, and decided her brother must be wrong. Nothing had really changed between her and Solas... other than their friendship now included a little, harmless flirting and the odd, smouldering look. The only other difference that Evelyn could think of, was that the elf now referred to her by either a given name, or a nickname... just as Varric, Dorian and Bull did.

Besides, it was only one night between friends, not a torrid love affair. The only _love_ between them was the platonic kind, surely. Even if she still found him attractive, and found her mind wandering back to the night they had share. But it wasn't as if Solas was the only man, that Trevelyan found attractive, or even the only man she had slept with. And Evelyn had her burgeoning entanglement with Cullen blooming... because one kiss did not a romance make. Though one kiss did make Evelyn grin like a fool, and she was glad for the dark that hid her expression.

Next to her, Solas shifted in his sleep. Without warning, a hand crept over the cotton fabric that covered Trevelyan's stomach muscles, swiftly followed by an arm. To say she was surprised, was quite an understatement. Though the elf's steady, deep breathing told Evelyn, that he was still fast asleep. However, in a matter of moments, Solas had shifted closer to her. The length of his body pressed into her side, as he snuggled into her. The elf made a small, contented sounding noise, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Despite her surprise, Evelyn couldn't help but smile fondly at her sleeping friend.

On instinct, Trevelyan slid a hand gently along the length of the arm that was hold her, before settling her palm against his bicep. Solas murmured another sleepy approval, and pulled her closer, his leg sliding to entwine with hers. Despite Evelyn's best efforts, she couldn't help but giggle softly, when he nuzzled her throat. It seemed her soft laughter had finally roused the sleeping elf. For Solas groggily propped himself slightly up on a forearm, and presumably regarded her through bleary eyes... it was hard to tell in the near black.

However, Evelyn felt his hand stroke down her cheek, his thumb brush her lower lip. Without warning, Trevelyan felt a familiar warmth bloom in her, followed by and ache she well remembered. She felt a little confused. She could readily admit that she had enjoyed their time in the Fade, and that she still found Solas attractive. However, Evelyn knew it was Cullen that she wanted. Cullen that she was pursuing. She never expected her stoic friend to be eliciting such emotions from her. Their one time in the Fade had been surprising enough. Vaguely, Evelyn wished it wasn't so dark, so she could see Solas' face. Especially when he bent down to her, his lips gently ghosting over hers...

Solas suddenly froze.

If she were to hazard a guess, Trevelyan would assume that the elf had only just realised the position they were in... namely, that he was nearly sprawled out on top of her. With his lips a hair's breadth away from hers, and his fingers beginning to tangle themselves in her cropped, red hair. For a moment, Evelyn could actually feel Solas' heartbeat against her own chest, and his breath lightly skittered over the skin of her face. Trevelyan was half convinced, that if she could see Solas' face, his stormy eyes would be wide with shock.

All at once, Solas seemed to push himself away from her. Practically retreating to the opposite side of the small tent. Much to Evelyn's surprise, she found herself almost pouting at the loss of his body against hers. Her reaction only served to confuse her more. Trevelyan would have, most likely, have pondered it further... if not for the embarrassed sounding cough Solas gave.

"My apologise, Inquisitor. I must have been dreaming," he stated, his voice clipped and strained.

"Some dream," Evelyn smile, her tone light and unperturbed.

"It will not happen again."

There was something in those five words that gave Trevelyan paused. Actually, those five words tugged at her heart, just a little, as did Solas' tone. He sounded regretful, embarrassed... but also lamenting. Expecting the elf would say more, Evelyn waited quietly, listening to him shuffling about. However, when she heard a sound that seemed to indicate that Solas was about to turn away from her again, Evelyn halted his movements. Lightly, her marked hand curled to clasped his shoulder. It was always hard to tell what was going on in Solas' brain, but Evelyn didn't want her stoic friend to believe there was anything wrong with his actions. Which Trevelyan assumed he was. Solas was terribly good at self-flagellation, after all.

"There's nothing wrong with a cuddle," she said warmly.

"My actions were inappropriate," Solas argued.

Pushing her own confused emotions aside, Evelyn shuffled a little closer, hoping to somehow comfort him. After all, and most importantly, Solas was her friend, and she cared about him. Despite his argument, Solas didn't pull away, when Trevelyan's torso pressed against his side. Daring to risk a little more closeness, Evelyn rested her chin on the back of the hand, that was resting on his shoulder.

"Why?" she asked.

Pointlessly, Evelyn tried to peer through the darkness. Though try as she might, Trevelyan could barely make out the outline of Solas' face. She sighed in defeat.

"I know you've never been in a Circle, but in Ostwick, cuddling up at night with a trusted friend wasn't unusual," she explained. "And me and Dorian do it all the time."

When only silence answered her, Evelyn dared to shift her position again. Slowly, she snaked an arm across Solas' blanket covered torso. To her surprise, Trevelyan felt his breathing hitch, as her arm settled over him.

"We are friends, aren't we?" she asked gently, feeling suddenly self-concious.

"We are," Solas replied after a moment's pause. He still sounded tense, but not as agitated.

"Who else are you going to be able to relax around, and find comfort with, if not your friends?" Trevelyan queried.

Tentatively, Evelyn rested her head on Solas' shoulder, where her hand had been moments before. It was only then that she noticed his scent, something akin to incense and wood smoke. Pleasant, heady and earthy... just as it had been in the Fade. The realisation caused her to smile, even if it was a little rueful.

"You may... have a point," Solas admitted.

Even though he sounded almost reluctantly, the elf began to relax. Hesitantly, as if he was unsure of the truth of her words, of his welcome, Solas curled his arm around Evelyn again. Several heartbeats past like this, until the elf unexpectedly shifted onto his side, facing her. Solas' other arm quickly wrapped around Evelyn, and he pulled her in closer, the torsos flush. Although Trevelyan was a little surprised by his sudden actions, she readily returned Solas' embrace, hugging him tightly. She still had zero clue, as to what was going on in his mind... but if this is what he needed, Evelyn would happily give it to him.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This was (parts of it anyway) originally the second part of the fourteenth chapter. It has been heavily edited. Chapter title is inspired by the Demi Lovato song of the same name. The inspiration for the chapter is from the following KinkMeme prompt:**

**Solas is used to sleeping alone whenever he does so. And usually he's quiet and still because he's wandering the Fade. But sometimes he sleeps just to rest and doesn't wander. Those times, it turns out that he'll latch onto anyone nearby like an elven leech. Anyone who happens to be sleeping next to him will wake up with him practically sprawled all over them. I want to see this happen to someone, either the Inquisitor or a companion. Can be romantic or just a gen, funny thing where Solas and someone else are sharing a tent on one of the Inquisitor's travels and they have to deal with this unexpected habit.  
\+ Whoever it is, they're awake to witness everything in motion.  
++ It's not someone Solas would do this with normally.  
+++ Solas wakes up and is embarrassed but plays it off.**


	56. Hard

**Hard**

Having finally returned to Skyhold, life settled into what constituted as normal for Trevelyan's life since the conclave. Daylight hours filled with meetings with her advisers, reading reports, researching with Solas or Dorian, and if Evelyn was particularly lucky... training her Free Marches Ranger, Peaches. Evening time that brought more reports, but at least the time spent reading them was also time spent in amicably silence with Varric, in front of his favourite fireplace. Occasionally, Dorian and the Iron Bull would drag them to the tavern, and Evelyn would spend a joyful night forgetting about the weight on her shoulders. However, most nights were spent in fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares.

The previous night had been one such occurrence, and it left Trevelyan feeling drained. Normally she would wash in frigid water, in a bid to chase away the worries and doubts in her head. She'd plaster on a smile, pretend everything was fine. Though she would only pick at breakfast, before submitting to Josephine's never ending list of tasks. However, Evelyn just couldn't do that today. She'd asked Nadia if she would make her excuses to Josephine, and went in search of her brothers. If anyone could chase her fowl mood away, it was them.

Thankfully, it didn't take too long to find them. Maxwell was helping to instruct some archers in the training yard, and Daylen was stripped to the waist, seemingly trying to teach a group of soldiers and mages how to do a backwards somersault. Evelyn hadn't got a clue as to _why_ he was trying to do this, but she watched on in amusement, none the less.

"Dragonling," Daylen grinned, as he landed his latest flip. Without warning he lunged forward, and grabbed her into a fierce hug. "That commander of yours has a good head on his shoulders, talked me and Max into helping with training."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "So I see," she replied dryly.

Chuckling, Daylen shook his head. "Want to give them a real show?" he asked.

For a moment, Trevelyan felt torn. She knew exactly what her brother was asking for, Parkour. A particular, highly demanding skill set, that the three of them had managed to perfect during her release days from the tower. Evelyn wasn't sure how suitable it was for the Inquisitor to do, and she worried her lip, lost in though. But by this point, Maxwell had set down his bow and was walking towards them, unbuttoning his doublet as he moved.

"Don't tell me little Evie has lost her nerve?" he teased, certainly not acting his thirty five years. "Not like you to care what nobles think."

That hit the nail on the head. Trevelyan let out an annoyed huff. She knew what they were both doing, all to well. Though honestly, she was thankful for it. With her brothers around, she felt more like the old Evelyn. And some small, often ignored part of her brain, chimed in saying that she spent too much time worrying about what everyone else wanted or thought. Right now, she was inclined to agree. Decision made, Trevelyan gave her brothers a feral grin.

"Screw the nobles," she laughed.

Carefully, Evelyn shrugged out of her jacket to reveal a plain, sleeveless, black cotton under-shirt below. Then, without warning, she surged forward. Quickly, Evelyn sprinted past a confused looking Sera and Iron Bull, then planted the ball of her right foot firmly against the tavern's wall. She pushed upwards, the fingers of her left hand finding a crevices in the brick work to help her along, before her right hand fiercely gripped the gable overhang of the roof. With relative ease, her left hand also found purchase on the roof, and Evelyn pulled herself upwards. For a moment, she held a handstand position, before flipping backwards onto her feet.

Evelyn glanced over her shoulder, to find that everyone who had been milling about the courtyard, were now gaping up at her, opened mouthed. All but her brothers. Who, at the raise of her eyebrow, laughed before springing into action, quickly following her up to the roof.

Dashing forward, Trevelyan ran towards the scaffolding, that had been set up against the ramparts. She jumped. Nimbly managing to catch hold of one of the wooden poles, that held up the structure. She swung. Quickly, Evelyn grabbed hold of a second pole, closer to the rampart wall, and pulled herself up. Before leaping again, and landing gracefully on the battlements. Her situation might have looked precarious to on lookers, but Trevelyan was as sure footed as mountain goat, whilst she ran along the parapet. Maxwell and Daylen eagerly chased her, the three grinning like maniacs the entire time.

As Evelyn reached Cullen's office, she leapt past a startled commander, grinning as her left foot pushed off the wall close to his head. She hopped from finger-hold to foothold, until she reached the top of his tower. Careful to avoid the gaping hole in the tiled roof, Trevelyan flipped herself backwards, aiming for the raised walkway that connected to the rotunda. She rolled as she landed, and the figures of Solas and Varric watching her intently, caught Evelyn's eye.

With carefree ease, Trevelyan winked to them, as she placed her left hand on the balustrade and pulled her weight over the edge. Gasps of shock and worry were startled out of the gathered crowd, as Evelyn purposefully dropped to the lower courtyard. At the last possible moment, she sent out a mind blast, directed at the floor below. It halted Evelyn's descent, allowing her to land without harm. Though the momentum meant she had to roll again, before being able to stand properly.

Above her, she heard Varric mutter: "Well... shit!"

Daylen loudly holler his protests that using magic was cheating, as he looked over the balustrade. Maxwell, on the other hand, was already descending from the tower. Jumping from branch to branch, of the trees that lined the lower courtyard. As her eldest brother drew near, Trevelyan blew a kiss to Day, and raced ahead of Max. Catching hold of one to the lampposts, Evelyn swung herself around, before landing with cat-like grace, on to the stair railing. With practised ease, she ran up the smooth slope, as Maxwell sprinted up the stairs. When she reached the end of the railing, Trevelyan flipped over his head, before doing a sequence of two cartwheels and three backward somersaults.

By the time she was finished, coming to a halt not far from where they started, she was completely out of breath. Unceremonious, Evelyn collapsed onto the bottom step, of the stairs leading to the main hall. Max slid to a halt beside her moments later, and rested his sweat drenched head against her knee. They eagerly watched as Daylen scaled the side of the keep, before flipping off the middle section of the staircase and landing to sit with them.

"I'm getting old," he wheezed, flopping dramatically against Trevelyan's shoulder.

A raucous cheer erupted from the gathered crowed. Evelyn chuckled a little breathlessly, when she spied the bemused faces of Iron Bull, Sera, Cassandra, Cullen, Varric, Solas, Nadia and Dorian. All regarding the three of them with a lot of shock, and a little awe. Even Leliana had left the rookery to see what all the hooting and hollering was about.

"Not much to do in Ostwick then?" Varric teased.

"Something like that," Maxwell panted.

"That... was amazing," Cullen muttered, sounding a dazed.

Evelyn shrugged, a little embarrassed by their amazement. "Had to do something to pass the time, and stop these two using me as a pillow." She gave both her brothers a gentle shove, Max took the hint and sat up again, though Daylen merely flopped back harder.

"You are full of surprises, lethallan," Solas commented, dryly. Amusement dancing in his stormy eyes.

"That's nothing," Maxwell boasted, pride very evident in his voice. "You should see her at hand to hand combat."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**So another chapter detailing events that happen around the cannon story. This chapter was by the following prompt on KinkMeme:  
I want a seriously bad-ass Quizzy. She does Parkour. Tai chi. Antivan jujitsu. If she's mage F!Trevs, maybe she came into her magic kind of late and spent her childhood being trained by her older siblings, and maybe they noticed her mageness before anyone else and spent a year training her with a bo staff (already featured in chapter ten) before sending her to the Circle. Whatever. I just want a lady who knows how to use her body in stunning ways. (This prompt may crop up again later, as it also mentions tantric sex and Sera bugging the Inquisitor to do more 'tricks').******  
Chapter title is inspired by the Rihanna song of the same name.****


	57. In His Kiss

**In His Kiss**

It was late in the evening, the sun had long since set, but Evelyn finally found her way to Cullen's office. The only illumination was provided by the two candelabras that stood either side of the commander's desk, and the warm, flickering candle light turned his strawberry-blonde hair, into a more coppery hue. Even at this late hour, Cullen still wore his armour, despite having been officially off-duty for hours. Despite her amusement at this fact, Evelyn couldn't help but smile affectionately at the commander. Vaguely, she wondered if it was a habit from his Templar days, that meant Cullen was always armoured.

"I hoped you would stopped by," he greeted, warmly.

Cullen rose from his chair, though didn't move from behind his desk. It was almost as if he was using it as a barrier. Trevelyan raised an eyebrow, she had thought he would be more eager to see her. Then again, it had been two weeks since their first, and only, kiss. A small, self-doubting voice began voicing it's opinion, but Evelyn forced the worries to the back of her mind. Letting her mouth quirk into a smirk, and adding a little extra sway to her hips, Trevelyan sauntered towards him.

"Oh?" she purred. "Something on your mind?"

"You," Cullen stated.

His warm brown eyes widened, as if he had only just realised what he had said, before a bold flush began to creep up his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, self-consciously, like he thought he had been too forward with that simple word. Evelyn's smirk threatened to turn into a grin, as she slipped around his desk and leant against the solid, mahogany surface. She knew it was a little wicked, but there was just something about a flustered commander that was utterly adorable.

"The day you kissed me on the battlements: How long had you wanted to do that?" Trevelyan asked nonchalantly.

The commander chuckled, sending a delicious tingle down her spine. "Longer than I should admit," he replied.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Cullen moved to close the distance between them. Before tentatively, reaching for her. The commander's actions spoke of nerves, almost as if he were afraid she had changed her mind. Despite her occasional wayward thought involving mysterious, bald elves, Evelyn hadn't had a second thought regarding Cullen. However, instead of letting him hold her hands, Trevelyan shook her head, and tapped the metal of his gauntlets when he began to frown.

"If I'm going to touch you, I want to feel you," she flirted.

Casually, Evelyn began to undo the thick, leather straps that held the metal in place. With practised ease, born from helping her brothers, Trevelyan soon had Cullen stripped of gauntlets and under-gloves. Though an impish part of her brain decided it was much too little clothing, an a lot more should be removed. A smile at the improper though, tugged at Evelyn's lips, as she slid her palms against Cullen's warmer hands. Who gave a contented hum in agreement.

"I've noticed you don't have much patience for nobility, I'm glad my title hasn't scared you off," Trevelyan stated, conversationally.

For a moment, the commander looked slightly stricken. "I hadn't considered," he admitted, almost hesitantly. "I have no title outside the Inquisition." Once again, he rubbed the back of his neck, and shifted from foot to foot. "I hope that doesn't... I mean, does it... bother you?"

Taking pity on him, Evelyn pushed away from the desk, her hands travelling up his armoured arms. She smiled up at Cullen warmly, as her hands clasped behind his neck. His hands came to rest carefully on her hips, as if he was afraid of either hurting her, or pushing too far. Which ever it was, the commander's bashful worrying was quite endearing. Absent-mindedly, Evelyn gently scratching her short nails through the soft locks that curled at the nape of his neck.

"No. If you care for me, that's all that matters," she reassured. "Besides, you've met my brothers, the other members of my family that truly matter to me, are of the same yolk. Though I'm sorry... if I put you on the spot, that was not my intent."

"I'm not very good at this am if," Cullen practically whispered.

His gazed fell away from Evelyn's, even whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her jacket. From anyone else, Trevelyan would have thought it was a teasing gesture, from the commander... well, she could well imagine it was more from nerves, rather than anything else.

"If I seem unsure," he continued. "It is merely because it's been a long time since I wanted _anyone_ in my life. I wasn't expecting to find that here. Or you."

The commander's warm, brown eyes crept back to meet Evelyn's, and tentatively, he leant forward. Cullen's lips brushed hers in a hint of a chaste kiss. Sweet and gentle, much like the man himself. Slightly shifting onto her toes for better reach, Trevelyan gave him a kiss in reply. It had a little more substance, but it was just as chaste. In truth, Evelyn would have loved to press for more. But she had the impression that Cullen was in the mood for something more soft and loving. And even though the commander smiled at her affectionately, there seemed a slight air of melancholy around him. It bothered her greatly, and Trevelyan sought to lighten the mood.

"The commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste," she teased, sardonically. "I'm sure that will have people talking."

A sigh escaped him. "You wouldn't believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks."

"Does it bother you?" Evelyn blurted out before she could stop herself.

Without concious thought, her grip slackened, and her hands slid to rest against his collar bone. Trevelyan suddenly felt a little nervous, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was regretting their entanglement. If asked, Evelyn would never admit it, but her heart started pounding in her chest as she awaited Cullen's reply. The answer came first as a visual clue. As the commander's eyes widened slightly, obviously realising where her mind had gone. Without hesitation, Cullen's large hands shifting from Evelyn's hips, to rest against her lower back. Before he rested his forehead against hers.

"Maker's breath, not like that," the commander breathed. "I'd just rather my, our, private affairs remain that way... but if there were nothing here for people to talk about," he paused, looking a little bashful. "I would regret it more."

"As would I," Evelyn whispered in reply.

She watched in anticipation as Cullen inclined his head towards her. Breathing deeply, Evelyn inhaled the comforting, fresh smell akin to pine, which was underlined by a muskiness that was purely Cullen. As he closed the distance, she could clearly make out individual hairs that made up his stubble, and as if by instinct, Evelyn's fingertips came to caress his jaw and cheeks. The stubble was coarse but pleasant beneath her touch, and the roughness was a stark contrast to the softness of Cullen's lips, as they pressed against her own.

Gently, Evelyn ran her tongue lightly over the seam of his mouth, silently requesting entrance, which he obliged. As their tongues languidly intertwined, she could taste the distinct flavour of elfroot and embrium. Which meant he had drank a draft of healing, herbal tea not long before her arrival. Idly, Evelyn wondered what would cause him to need such a beverage, before coherent thought left her, as Cullen pulled her tighter to his armoured body. The distant sounds of the night patrol walking the ramparts drifted away completely, as Evelyn found herself melting into her handsome commander.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**So, it was recently brought to my attention that there wasn't enough Cullen UST happening. This is my first chapter to rectify this. It had been originally posted as part of a much longer chapter, however, it has been HEAVILY modified since then. Chapter title inspired by the Cher hit: The Shoop Shoop Song... which was in my head the entire time I was rewriting this chapter!**


	58. Iris

**Iris**

Another fortnight had passed. Though this one exchanged the ever present rain of Crestwood, for the gelid wastelands of the Emprise du Lion. Which was a place Trevelyan would rather never see again, as the time spent in the craggy environment, had been downright heart breaking. Even though Evelyn, Solas, Varric and the Iron Bull had managed to make surprisingly good progress. They had captured Suledin Keep, dealt with the corruption at the Sahrnia Quarry, and freed those who had been forced into servitude. Evelyn had even managed to recruit a dapper chevalier: Michel de Chevin, who she felt would be an asset helping Cullen to train the troops. It was to this end, that Trevelyan wearily trudged up the stairs that led to the commander's office, having only stopped long enough in her quarters to quickly bathe and change into fresh, bloodstain-free clothing.

Ideally, Evelyn would have enjoyed nothing more than to wrap her arms around Cullen, and lose herself in a tender kiss. However, when her eyes finally fell upon the commander, she found him bent over his desk, intently pouring over a map. Tension, anxiety, and even some repressed anger radiated off the normally collected man. Upon hearing Evelyn's approaching footsteps, Cullen looked up at her, a taut smile on his lips before his gaze fell back to the map. Beside the cartography was a stack of missives, that looked to be the letters that Evelyn had found around Sahrnia Quarry, and forward via raven.

"Inquisitor, I've found where the Red Templars came from, Therinfal Redoubt," the commander informed, his voice like steel. "The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over, after their corruption was complete."

"How do you know Samson?" Trevelyan asked.

She moved closer to the commander, but didn't reach for him, since their conversation seemed more like a debrief. Silently, Evelyn watched as Cullen's grip on the desk tightened. The metal of his gauntlets actually left gouges in the wood, much to her worry.

"He was a Templar in Kirkwall," Cullen grit out, through clenched teeth. "Until he was expelled from the order. I knew he was an addict, but this..." The commander visibly shuddered. "Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the chantry. It's power comes with a terrible madness."

Unable to hold herself apart any longer, Evelyn went to him. She would have wrapped her arms around him, if not for his armour. Instead, Trevelyan lay a hand on the commander's forearm, despite the thick layer of metal.

"I believe you," she assured, her voice soft and gentle. Since it was only the two of them. "The Red Templars swarming Haven were proof enough."

"We cannot allow them to gain strength," the commander asserted.

Even though he was speaking to Evelyn, Cullen's eyes remained locked on the map. However, his right hand had released it's vice grip on the desk, and hesitantly, he wrapped it over Evelyn's hand that lay against his forearm.

"The Red Templars require lyrium," he continued. "You dealt a blown, taking out the Sahrnia Quarry, but we need to find their other sources. Then we can weaken them_ and_ their leader."

Testing Cullen's mood, Evelyn reach her freehand to the nape of his neck, gently scratching indistinct patterns with her blunt nails. As if on instinct, his head dropped forward, allowing her to lightly massage the base of his skull.

"Are you angrier at Corypheus, or Samson?" she asked.

"I don't know," Cullen admitted. "Samson, at least, should know better. Caravans of red lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it's being mined. If you confront them..." His jaw tightened. "Be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded."

"Aren't I always?" she asked, sweetly.

Hoping to change the topic of conversation, for the last thing Evelyn needed, was more work to dwell over... she balanced on the balls of her feet, leaning up to kiss Cullen's jawline. It was an unsubtle attempt to get him to relax, and to shift their reunion into more pleasant ground, but it was the only thing Evelyn could currently think to do. She received a huff of laughter in reply. Though she was unsure if it was due to her actions, or her question.

"You took on a dragon just four days ago," he stated, gesturing towards the stack of reports.

"Just a Hivernal," Trevelyan grinned, before outright laughing at his drawn expression.

Without warning, Cullen gathered Evelyn into his arms, and pulled her tight against his armoured body. His hold was firm, but not uncomfortable, even if it forced some of the air out of her lungs. Trevelyan smiled wryly, as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. She felt, more than heard, him inhale deeply as if he was grounding himself. The scratch of his stubble was pleasant across the cool skin of her neck, and he moved to plant a kiss on the side of her throat.

"Maker's breath, Evelyn!" the commander sighed.

Cullen's warm breath ghostly across her face as he kissed her cheek, then forehead. Chuckling, Evelyn bade him to sit. She couldn't help but smile affectionately, at his confused expression looking up at her, once he had seated himself. Shaking her head in a bid to keep from giggling, Trevelyan daintily slipped into Cullen's lap. She positioned herself so her legs were thrown sideways over his, and her arms snaked around his neck. For several heartbeats, they quietly regarded each other, the bustle from the lower courtyard drifting up to them. However, the noise did not disrupt their moment of peace, and as Cullen regarded her with almost wonder written across his face, Evelyn leant into him.

Their lips met softly, and she could taste tea laced with honey, as her tongue began to dance with his. The scent of smoke and prophet's laurel lingered on Cullen's skin, leading Evelyn to believe he had been in the small chantry not long ago. Of their own volition, her hands wove themselves into his hair. The curls were soft and slightly slick from hair wax, as they wound around her fingers. It was with a contented sigh, on both their parts, that the moment ended. On impulse, Evelyn peppered Cullen's mouth and scar with several, feather light kisses. However, she caught the strained look in the commander's eye. Biting back a weary sigh, Trevelyan leant her forehead against his.

"You and the Red Templar's leader seem to have a history," she observed, cautiously.

"When I arrived in Kirkwall, Samson and I shared quarters. He seemed a decent man, at first," the commander replied, sounding as weary as Evelyn felt. "Knight-Commander Meredith later expelled Samson for 'Erratic Behaviour'. He ended up begging on Kirkwall's streets. He committed further crimes, but managed to evade the Order's justice. Now, Samson serves Corypheus as his loyal general."

Evelyn softly kissed Cullen's temple as she snuggled closer to him. Despite wishing they were having nearly any other conversation than the one they were having, she knew that the commander needed to talk about it. And she smiled warmly, as Cullen tightened his grip on her. It ended with Evelyn almost cradled to his chest.

"Why do you think Samson joined Corypheus?" she asked.

There was a moment's pause before Cullen answered. "He had a chronic lyrium addiction. He spent every last coin buying it from local smugglers," he explained. "Perhaps Corypheus flattered his vanity, gave him purpose as well as lyrium. Perhaps that's all it took."

Evelyn took a moment to consider what she had been told. "I almost pity him," she admitted. "It sounds like Samson had a miserable life."

Cullen gave a non-committal hum. "The order expelled him, but he had choices. He could have found another path."

"Perhaps," Evelyn conceded. "But not everyone is as strong as you are, darling."

Whether it was the term of endearment, or praise, that caught the commander off guard... Trevelyan wasn't sure. Which ever was the case, she smiled at Cullen warmly, as he stared at her for several heartbeats. Then a blush coloured his cheeks and neck.

"I... thank you," the commander whispered.

Without warning, Cullen captured Evelyn's lips with his, with just as much enthusiasm as their very first kiss. And Trevelyan was more than happy to simply lose herself in the moment... to let the rest of the world disappear.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Okay, so this isn't any actual Cullen UST, but I wanted to add layers to their relationship, and to show Trevelyan commitment to it. Chapter title inspired by the Goo Goo Doll's song of the same name, because the line: '****When everything's meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am', really fit these two. **


	59. I'll Stand By You

**I'll Stand By You**

Occasionally in the back of Evelyn's mind, she considered that her relationship with Cullen was moving at a snail's pace. She was gone from Skyhold more often than not, often for weeks at a time, and when she was back at the keep, Trevelyan found that her time was spent mostly in meetings... or sleeping. It was a rare moment that she got to indulge in some quality time with either her friends or Cullen. Thankfully, Evelyn had only been gone a week this time. A week spent cleaning up a couple of newly open rifts around the Hinterlands, with Varric, Dorian and Blackwall at her side. The type of work that had become run of the mill by now, which meant that for once, Trevelyan wasn't returning completely covered in blood.

However, once they were safely back within Skyhold's walls, Evelyn quickly hurried to her chambers, intent on a well earned soak. Unsurprisingly, Nadia was in her quarters, and a bath already drawn. Gratefully, Trevelyan sank into the fragrant, warm water, only for Nadia to hand her an ominous looking missive. Biting back a sigh, she broke the seal and began to read. Surprisingly, it was a request from the commander for a private meeting. Instinct told Evelyn this was not going to be a social call, and with a heavy heart, she rushed her bathing.

Less than one hour later, Trevelyan was tentatively knocking on the sturdy oak door, that opened onto the raised walk way. If she hadn't been a little nervous before, Daylen grabbing her hand as she'd passed him in the great hall, asking her to come find him after speaking to Cullen, had certainly but butterflies in her stomach. And not the welcomed kind.

Cautiously, Evelyn pushed open the heavy door. She took a deep breath, before sauntered into the room, portraying a confidence she didn't entirely feel. The sight of the commander bent over his desk, not at a map this time, but a small wooden box, sent Evelyn's pulse thumping. She recognised the innocuous box immediately. Anyone versed in the way of a mage or Templar would recognise the tools to prepare lyrium drafts.

Even with Trevelyan's own reluctance to take the glimmering blue liquid, preferring to rebuild her mana the natural way of rest and recuperation as much as possible, the sight should not have filled her with worry. After all, seeing a Templar with such equipment was not rare. Evelyn had even helped Daylen prepare drafts in the past. However, there was an aura about the commander, anxious and tense, that set Trevelyan on edge. Cullen stood from his hunched position, moving to stand at attention, though his warm brown eyes refused to meet her gaze.

"As leader of the Inquisition, you..." Cullen sighed, his shoulders sagging and his brow furrowing, It was as if he had lost the will to repeat whatever careful words he had, no doubt, practised. "There's something I must tell you," he stated at last, his hands coming to rest on the pommel of his sword.

It would be a lie, to say that the commander distancing himself from her, didn't hurt. Before they had started their romance, Evelyn considered Cullen a friend. The fact that he was doing so, inspite of their kisses... well, Trevelyan had been on the receiving end of fireballs, that had burned less. Despite her own, hurt, feelings, Evelyn plastered on the most reassuring smile she could muster.

"Whatever it is, I am willing to listen... with an open mind," she told him, truthfully.

Why she had added the last part, Trevelyan wasn't sure. However, it seemed to have been the right thing to say, as Cullen's eyes finally met hers. He looked almost relieved, which almost made Evelyn snort in incredulous laughter.

"Right... thank you," he replied, sounding slightly abashed. "I'm sure you know that lyrium grants Templars our abilities, but it also controls us as well."

The commander hunched over his desk again, glaring at the box in front of him, as if it was his enemy. The sight of him like that, dampened down some of the hurt Evelyn felt. He looked so dejected, it pulled at her heart.

"Those cut off suffer... some go mad, others die," Cullen continued. "Thanks to your efforts, we have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here. But I..." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "No longer take it."

At the admission, Cullen glanced up at Evelyn. He seemed nervous, and was obviously waiting for her reaction. Without thinking, Trevelyan walked around the desk, coming to stand beside him. A brief look of surprise crossed the commander's face, when she linked her arm through his. In truth, Evelyn would have given Cullen a comforting squeeze, but it seemed rather pointless, with the layers of heavy armour he constantly wore.

"You stopped?" she asked, somewhat pointlessly, since he had already said as much.

Cullen nodded, his head coming to hang, almost as if he was ashamed. "When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."

"Why are you doing this?" Trevelyan asked, hesitantly.

Evelyn couldn't deny, she hadn't previously known the effects lyrium withdrawal had on a Templar, and as annoyed as she felt, Trevelyan could well suspect why Daylen had never mentioned it. Slowly, her hand crept down Cullen's arm, coming to lay over his gauntlet clad hand, that was pressed against the desk's mahogany surface.

"After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't..." he sighed, shaking his head. "I will not be bound to the Order, or that life, any longer. Whatever the suffering... I accept it." Cullen then stood up again, gently capturing her hand in his. "But I won't put the Inquisition at risk. I have asked Cassandra to... watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty."

Solemnly, Evelyn nodded. She could understand why the commander had turn the the warrior. Cassandra was a Seeker, after all. If anyone would know what to look out for, it would be her. Not to mention that she was also brutally honest, and had recruited Cullen into the Inquisition in the first place. To Trevelyan, the Seeker was the prefect choice.

"Are you in pain?" she asked gently.

Though she was a proficient healer, Evelyn had never helped a recovering addict. She wasn't entirely sure what Cullen would be suffering with. Trevelyan doubted that Dorian's skills run in that direction, though she idly wondered in Solas would have any ideas. She also wondered how she could bring it up in conversation, without revealing the cause of her enquiry.

"I can endure it," the commander stated, bringing Evelyn out of her thought.

As he spoke, Cullen's posture stiffened, even though he continued to hold her hand. It dawned on her then, that just as her confident strut and smile was an act, so was was the commander's adherence to codes and training. For all intents and purposes, formality was his mask to hide behind. The realisation completely wiped away any of the lingering hurt Evelyn felt, and with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, she cupped Cullen's stubbled cheek with her free hand.

"I'm not asking as the Inquisitor," Evelyn said, kindly. "I'm asking as someone who cares about you, Cullen the person. Not the Inquisition's commander." She ran her thumb across his cheekbone. "You don't have to endure this alone. I will help you, if you let me."

"I... um... th... thank you," Cullen stammered, an endearing blush creeping up his neck.

"However, just for the record, as the Inquisitor as well as a person, I respect what you're doing," she smiled, leaning up to kiss his other cheek. "Thank you for telling me."

"Thank you... Evelyn," he replied, almost shyly. "Despite what I'm going through, the Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen... I will defer to Cassandra's judgement."

"Agreed," Trevelyan acknowledged. "Until then, let me take care of you."

With that, Evelyn tugged the front of Cullen's armour, pulling him down towards her, before mercilessly claiming his lips with her own.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Okay, so once again, I know this isn't any real UST between them. But I feel that building the trust and understanding between them is just as important. Chapter title inspired by the Marlisa Punzalan song of the same name.**


	60. Thinking Out Loud

**Thinking Out Loud**

It had been over a month since Trevelyan had last been in Skyhold, and the Western Approach had been a bit of a nightmare. She had the company of Varric, Solas and Cassandra along with Hawke, Fenris and Stroud... so camp life had mostly been bearable. However, the barren land, corrupted beyond recovery from the second Blight, had been harsh and unrelenting. The fighting and trekking had seemed never-ending, and despite everything they had managed to accomplish, the warden problem had not been resolved.

Also, the horrific last confrontation with the wardens had not ended well. Erimond had managed to escape, and Stroud had a hunch the deranged Tevinter mage had fled to Adamant Fortress. Not to mention that the anchor still throbbed from the attack, despite Solas' best efforts to help Evelyn subdue the pain. It had weakened her considerably, to the point Stroud had to carry her back to camp directly after the fight. Solas had adamantly advised that they return to Skyhold, lest Evelyn's condition worsened. Reluctantly, Trevelyan had agreed. So they had left the warden, Hawke and Fenris with several of the Inquisition's best scouts, and were awaiting confirmation before they planned a full scale attack on the fortress.

Upon returning, Trevelyan had been embarrassed that it had taken her and Nadia three separate washes, to rid her red cropped hair of all of it's sand. She had shuddered to think how hard it would have been, if she had followed her mother's wishes, and had hair as long as Josephine. Which reached the ambassador's waist when it was unbound. Though Evelyn couldn't help but laugh as she walked through the main hall, finding Varric sitting at his favourite table, his blonde hair free from it's customary, short pony tail and drying in the fire's heat. It had apparently taken the dwarf five washes to get the sand out of his hair, and Evelyn hadn't been able to resist asking if he meant the hair on his head or his chest. When Varric had narrowed his eyes at her, a smirk on his lips, and wagged his quill at her... Trevelyan had beat a hasty retreat, understanding the threat, and had slipped happily into the garden. Which was quickly turning into one of Evelyn's favourite places to relax and find respite in.

"Are you _sassing_ me, commander?" Dorian drawled, his seductive voice carrying from the gazebo. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Chuckling, Evelyn walked the stepping stone path to the covered seating area, eager to see her best friend and... lover? Boyfriend? Romantic interest? She actually had no idea how to refer to Cullen. Their relationship hadn't progressed past stolen moments, and a handful of lingering kisses. Evelyn knew she cared for the commander, and believed he returned her feelings, though that still left her at a loss as to what they actually were to each other.

However, when she found the pair sitting facing each other, a chess board set up between them, the questions vanished. A broad smile formed on her lips as she regarded them both. Dorian was always roping her into a game, and she was glad he had found someone to indulge him, whilst she was away.

"Why do I even... Evelyn?" Cullen looked startled, hurriedly moving to stand.

"Leaving are you? Does that mean I win?" Dorian teased the commander, before giving Trevelyan a charming smile.

Chuckling, Evelyn perched herself on the arm of her fellow mage's chair. Her arm curled companionably around Dorian's shoulders, whilst she gave Cullen a flirty wink.

"Please... don't stop on my account," she grinned.

The commander's cheeks coloured a little, as he sat again. "Alright. Your move," he instructed, leaning towards the board once more.

"You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory," Dorian goaded, moving his knight. "It will make you feel much better."

Subtly, he squeezed her knee, and Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek to stop from giggling. He'd just thrown the game.

"Really?" Cullen asked, moving his queen and checking Dorian's king. "Because I just won." His chuckle was jovial and adorable. "And I feel fine."

Dorian raised his arms in a flamboyant gesture as he stood, and Trevelyan took the opportunity to slip from the chair arm, before the disproportionate weight caused it to tip. Since making a fool of herself in front of the commander, was not on her 'to do' list today.

"Don't get smug, there will be no living with you."

Turning his back to the commander, the mage gave Evelyn a wink before kissing her cheek. Without thinking, Trevelyan pulled her best friend into a brief but tight hug, one that Dorian returned with relish.

"Good to have you back in one piece, Sweetheart," he said, before heading back into the main hall.

Shaking her head, Trevelyan watched him strut away, unable to help her eyes wandering to his pert bottom. It was such an excellent sight, after all. Disturbing her quiet admiration, Evelyn felt a large hand on her lower back, the warmth radiating through her purple, woollen tunic. Glancing to her left, Evelyn found Cullen regarding her affectionately.

"I should return to my duties as well," he stated. "Unless you would care for a game?"

Evelyn made a show of considered his offer, before grinning up at him. "Prepare the board, _commander_." She didn't miss the way Cullen shuddered slightly as she purred his title.

Within minutes, the chess board was reset and they were sat opposite each other, both leaning in slightly. To the board, of course... not each other, that would be unseemly. However, before the game commenced, Cullen took hold of Evelyn's right hand, and raised it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly, which unexpectedly caused her heart rate to pick up it's pace. Unable to help herself, Trevelyan twisted her hand, lightly running her fingertips over the commander's lower lip and chin. The slightly shy smile Cullen gave in reply, was utterly adorable.

"As a child, I used to play this with my sister, she would get this stuck up grin whenever she won," he chuckled. "Which was_ all _the time. My brother and I practised together for weeks. Oh, the look on her face the day I finally won..."

Despite enjoying watching the commander's face light up as he talked about his siblings, Evelyn's brow furrowed. He thoughts were drawn back to the young boy and woman who had a resemblance of Cullen, that Evelyn had seen in the garden months before.

"Does your sister have a son?" she asked.

It was clear from the surprise on his face, that Cullen hadn't expected the question. Though as the surprise dissipated, the commander nodded slowly.

"Between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I hadn't seen them in years," the commander stated, sitting back in his chair. "Then she suddenly appeared in Skyhold one day, a nephew I had never met in tow, berating me for not getting in touch sooner." He looked a little ashamed at the admission. "Mia stayed and worked in the infirmary for a month, whilst she waited for her husband to join them. Believe it or not, Morrigan minded Benjamin during that time, since he and Keiran had become fast friends." Cullen then looked at her quizzically. "Why do you ask?"

"I believe your nephew was kind enough to gift me a flower crown," Evelyn replied, smiling fondly at the memory of that day. "Do you have any other siblings?"

"In total, two sisters and a brother," Cullen answered.

The commander leant forward to take his turn, even though neither of them had particular paid attention to the movements so far. Tilting her head slightly to the side, Evelyn regarded Cullen thoughtfully. Even though he was still in his armour, the commander looked younger somehow, more relaxed as he spoke about his family.

"Where are they now?" Trevelyan wondered aloud.

"They moved to South Reach after the blight, though Mia and her family are now at the Hinterland's Crossroads, helping the refuges." The pride in his sister was evident in Cullen's voice. "I must admit, I do not write to them all as often as I should."

Chuckling, Trevelyan shook her head. "Daylen was the same when he was in the Order. Mother was always nagging me for news of him, when I wrote home."

"Your brothers are good men," the commander complimented, and a smile pulled at the scarred side of his lips. "I believe this may be the longest we've gone without discussing the Inquisition, or related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction."

"I am more than happy to be your distraction," Evelyn purred.

Even though she felt a little brazen for flirting in such a manner, Trevelyan relished the flush creeping up the commander's neck at her words. As wicked as it was, making Cullen blush was quickly becoming a hobby of hers. Though she resolutely endeavoured only to do so, when they were in private.

"We should spend more time together," she added, lightly.

"I would... like that," Cullen replied, somewhat shyly.

_'Me too'_ she thought, wistfully. Before her mind began to wander towards decidedly less innocent activities, than playing chess. However, when the commander chuckled softly, Trevelyan realised she had actually said that aloud.

"You said that," he smiled.

Thankfully, and probably due to having two older brothers, Evelyn did not embarrass easily. However, even if she had been, any worry would have melted away upon seeing Cullen's smile. The gesture held enough evident emotion, that it set Evelyn's heart fluttering.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**I thought this was a really cute scene in game, and wanted to make something of it. Chapter title inspired by the Ed Sheeran song of the same name.**


	61. Love Me Like You Do

**Love Me Like You Do**

After another fortnight of mopping up Red Templars on the storm coast with Varric, Dorian and the Iron Bull, Evelyn was back at Skyhold once again. She had bathed, whilst listening to Nadia's excited chatter about how her relationship with Krem was progressing. Which was very well, by the sound of it, the Tevinter warrior being the perfect gentleman. Trevelyan had then sought out Solas, spending a pleasant hour with the elf, admiring the ever growing mural. Only after getting her reclusive friend to agree to have lunch with her on the morrow, did Evelyn take her leave and head across the raised walk way to Cullen's office.

However, she was greatly disappointed not to find him within, though a soldier waiting nearby explained the commander had gone to speak with Cassandra. Deciding there was little point waiting around for him, Evelyn jogged down to the upper courtyard, and was pleased to find Maxwell and Daylen sparring together.

"Come to join us, Evie?" Max called, tossing her a practise sword.

She caught it with ease, however before Evelyn could shrug out of her jacket to join them, raised voices could be heard from the forge. Expecting it to be quarrelling workers, Trevelyan dropped the blunted weapon and strode purposefully towards the forge, intent on quelling the disturbance. So it came as some surprise, to find Cullen and Cassandra glowering at each other. The seeker threw Trevelyan an exasperated, pleading look as the commander walked past her, his head bowed.

"Forgive me," he whispered, barely glancing at Evelyn before he left the building.

"And people say _I'm_ stubborn. This is ridiculous," Cassandra muttered, crossing her arms.

"People? You mean Max?" Trevelyan smiled.

Her worry for Cullen dampened her appetite for friendly teasing somewhat, but it still slipped out. And it still never failed to surprised Evelyn, how easily her two favourite warriors were to fluster, as Cassandra's cheeks turned an attractive dusky pink.

"Indeed." The seeker sighed, and Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Cullen told you he is no longer taking lyrium?" Cassandra asked, her tone quiet and concerned, as she leant against one of the smithing benches.

"He did," Evelyn affirmed, settling herself next to her friend. "I think he's very brave."

"As do I," Cassandra agreed. "Not that he's willing to listen."

And there was the crux of the problem, and the obvious reason for the heated exchanged. For the next twenty minutes, Trevelyan listened as the seeker explained all that had happened during Evelyn's weeks away, and expressed her concern that the commander was working himself to death. Cassandra voiced the opinion that Cullen was striving to prove himself, even though no one else felt he needed to do so. Something Evelyn readily agreed with, though she found herself accidentally wondering aloud why he hadn't felt able to speak to her about his worries.

"He wouldn't want to... risk your disappointment," Cassandra reasoned, her tone soft as she placed a hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "But if anyone could reassure him, change his mind, it's you."

Without thinking, Trevelyan gave the seeker a brief hug of thanks, before hurrying out of the forge. She didn't get very far, before her brothers approached her.

"He headed for his office," Daylen advised, and Evelyn didn't bother trying to play coy. "And he didn't look good."

The latter part was said hesitantly, but she wouldn't question him. Day had begun to wean himself off lyrium as well, so if anyone would empathise with Cullen, it was him. And Evelyn respected her brother to head the warning he was giving.

"Do you need us to come with you?" Maxwell asked, gently stroking her back in the reassuring way he used to when they were children.

Evelyn shook her head. "I'm sure it will be fine, though go see Cas, take her to the tavern or something. I think she needs it."

Maxwell only nodded before heading to the forge, having admitted months ago to being interested in the seeker. However, Daylen linked his arm through hers.

"I'll wait in the lower courtyard," he advised. "If you need help, or Cullen takes a turn, just give me a shout." When she went to protest, he pulled her into a hug. "You love him, I know. And I'm proud of you for standing by him, a lesser woman would not. But..." he trailed off, giving her a pointed look.

"Alright," she agreed, leaving him at the foot of the stairs that led to the battlements. "I'll shout if we need you."

With that, Evelyn took off at a run, not caring if the nobles dotted around the courtyard would be scandalised to see the Inquisitor _actually_ doing something. A few of the patrolling soldiers seemed surprised to see her running, rather than casually strolling as she normally did. However, they simply carried on their duties, which Evelyn was thankful for. She wound down her pace to a brisk stride before she reached the office, doubting it would help the situation if she appeared flustered. Nodding a polite greeting to Jim as she passed, Evelyn reached the office's western entrance and opened the door.

She visibly jumped as glass shattered near her head. Blinking into the gloom, she saw Cullen regarding her with utter shock. It seemed he had not expected her, which at least meant he wasn't aiming for her, when he flung the filter. For glancing down, that was what Evelyn realised the glass was. Feigning ambivalence, Trevelyan's steps crunched over the shattered vial, and firmly, she shut and bolted the door behind her.

"Maker's breath! I didn't hear you enter, I..." Cullen trailed off, looking completely dejected. "Forgive me."

Trevelyan shook her head, dismissing the almost apology. "May I?" she asked, raising a hand in order to cast a simple spell.

The commander looked wary, as if he partially suspected she would cast something against him, but he cautiously nodded. With consent given, Evelyn quickly had the blots of the other doors slide home.

"You'll be able to open them, should you wish," she assured, not wanting him to feel trapped. "I just thought we could talk, and this way someone has to at least knock before they interrupt us."

The commander started to walk towards her. "You don't have to..." a pain filled groan escaped Cullen's lips, cutting off whatever else he wanted to say. He clutched desperately at the side of his desk to keep himself upright.

No time was sparred, as Evelyn rushed towards him. Her arms slipped around his torso, and she cursed silently to herself as she braced his weight. Not for the first time, she found herself hating that he always wore his damn armour. Though it only took a moment to help steady the commander, and Evelyn cupped her right hand to his cheek. Hoping to silently show Cullen that he had her support.

"I never mean for this to... interfere," he said in a whisper, not meeting her gaze.

For a moment, Trevelyan wondered what he meant, before Cullen risked glancing at her. There was so much shame and regret in his eyes, that realisation hit with a sickening pace. Acting purely on instinct, Evelyn's hand released his cheek and grabbed the back of his neck. She pulled him down harshly to meet her. He tasted of elfroot and embrium tea, smelt like smoke and prophets laurel. With an insistence, her tongue demanded entrance to his mouth. And she felt more than heard the moan Cullen gave, as they warred for dominance. His hands slid to grip her bottom firmly. Taking her cue from his actions, Evelyn pushed the length of her body against his armoured form, and before she knew it, Trevelyan found herself sat on the edge of Cullen's desk, her legs wrapped around his upper thighs.

When he pulled back slightly, looking a little dazed, she cupped his face in her hands and placed an affectionate kiss on the tip of his nose. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked kindly, gently scratching at his stubble.

"Yes..." Cullen began, before sighing. "I don't know," he eventually admitted, gently untangling himself from her legs. "You've asked before: what happened to Ferelden's Circle. It was taken over by abominations. The Templars... _my friends_... were slaughtered."

The commander paced as he spoke, and Evelyn's heart went out to him. As much as she wanted to go to him, to comfort him, Trevelyan remained seated on the desk. Crossing her legs, she remained silent. Hoping her passive listening would help Cullen exercise some of his demons. For she doubted he had spoken about this to anyone, even Cassandra.

"I was tortured. They tried to break my mind, and I..." His voice cracked. "How can you be the same person after that?" Cullen huffed out a self-depreciating laugh, it sounded brittle to Evelyn's ears. "Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander, and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness." He continued to pace, never once glancing up at Trevelyan. "Kirkwall's Circle fell. Innocent people died in the street..." he paused, finally looking at her. "Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?"

"Of course I can," Evelyn said quietly, slipping off the desk and taking a step towards the commander.

"Don't!" Cullen took a step away from her, holding his hands in front of him. Not quite a plea, not quite a command. "You should be questioning what I've done."

Slowly, Trevelyan laced her fingers with his, though kept an arm's length away. She was thankful that his gauntlets were removed for once, his hands clad only in supple leather. Though the realisation that they were only off, because he had contemplated making a draft of lyrium, was not a pleasant one.

"Do you blame Hawke for what Anders did?" she asked.

Cullen's brow furrowed. "Maker's breath! Of course not."

"Then you can't take the blame for what Meredith did," Trevelyan reasoned.

There was a moment when the commander seemed to let her words sink in, before he shook his head. "I thought this would be better," he stated, dropping her hands to scrub irritably at his face. "That I would begin to regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won't leave me..." Once again, Cullen began to pace. "How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause..." He turned to her, eyes almost frantic as beads of sweat gathered on his brow. "I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the chantry. I should be taking it!" Unexpectedly, he punched the book case beside him. "I should be taking it."

Evelyn would be lying if she were to say that she was not unnerved by this side of the commander. The letters they had exchanged whilst she were away, had not hinted at this. Though she suspected this was what Daylen tried to warn her about.

"This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition," Evelyn said carefully, approaching Cullen almost as she would an injured animal. "Is this what _you_ want?"

He all but sagged against her once she was within reach. "No," the commander sighed, his arms coming to encircle her. "But... these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse, if I cannot endure this..."

Cullen's grip tightened and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, seemingly inhaling her scent. Vaguely, Evelyn hoped she smelt of citrus and jasmine, instead of salt water and spindle weed which had lingered on her skin, and clothes, throughout her wanderings of the Storm Coast. Gently, her hands found the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and she twisted it lightly around her fingers.

"You can," she stated firmly, pulling back enough to look directly into his eyes. Her left hand drifted to settle over his heart. "You are stronger than you think, and you are not alone."

The breathe he exhaled was filled with relief. "All right."

He moved to rest his forehead against hers, but Evelyn pulled away. "Trust me?" she requested upon seeing his worried expression.

When he nodded, she moved away towards the eastern door.

"Grab a set of casual clothes," she instructed, unbolting the door.

Evelyn had intended to call down to her brother, though she wasn't entirely surprised to see Daylen leaning, arms crossed, at the head of the stone stairway.

"Can you get a bath drawn up in my chamber?" she requested. "And tell Nadia to take the rest of the day off, if she's pottering about up there."

With only a raised eyebrow in response, Daylen left to do as she asked. Without preamble, Evelyn bolted the door again, and turned to face Cullen. Who was looking at her with a mixture of nerves, anguish and confusion on his handsome face. There was a light blue tunic and grey breeches folded over one of his arms. Smiling sweetly, Trevelyan wiped the sweat from his brow with the cuff of her sleeve, before she took hold of his free hand, and led him towards the raised walkway leading to the rotunda. They walked in silence, still clasping each other's hand.

However, the moment they entered, Solas looked up from the ancient tome he was bent over. Worry and concern etched onto his face, and after squeezing Cullen's hand in reassurance, she hurried to Solas' side. Without thinking, her hands curled around his forearms as she pressed herself close. The acoustics of the rookery tower had become rather infamous, and Evelyn did not want to risk what she had to say being over heard.

"I would be in your debt, if I could have your current supply of elfroot and embrium," she whispered in his ear.

There was only a moment's pause, as Solas glanced at Cullen, before he replied. "I have some Amrita Vein you can use to boost the tea's effect, and a pot of Vandal Aria salve that should help any aches he is suffering," he said. "I will bring them to your quarters shortly."

Tears pricked Evelyn's eyes, as a lump formed in her throat. Not trusting herself to speak, she kissed Solas' cheek in silent thanks before returning to Cullen, and ushering him out the door. The commander looked at her with confusion, though affection was clear in his gaze as well. They reached her quarters without incident, though Evelyn found herself helping Cullen slowly walk up the winding stairs that led to her chamber. Occasionally, he grunted in an attempt to block out the cramping pain from his muscles spasming, which were only evident from the tension in his jaw, and how his hands flexed involuntarily. By the time they reached her room, Solas had already arrived with his promised supplies, even being sweet enough to bring up a pot of steaming herbal tea, already prepared.

Without comment, Solas deposited the tray he was carrying onto her desk and stoked the fire, before adding a scoop of Vandal Aria into the tub of warm water that sat in front of the hearth. Whilst he saw to that, Evelyn helped a now trembling Cullen to sit on the plush sofa, that rested near the railing of the stairway. Though at the feeling of Solas' hand against her lower back, Trevelyan turned around to face the elf.

"Do you need any further assistance," he asked, his voice neural but his stormy eyes boring into her, as his hand clasped her elbow.

"I think I... we... will be alright," she replied hesitantly. Selfishly, she wanted Solas to stay, nervous as she was dealing with Cullen's withdrawal, but she knew it would only shame the commander.

Solas' eyes glanced between the couple. "Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan'ara," he said solemnly. "If you have need..."

"I will not hesitate to seek you out," Evelyn promised, kissing the elf once again on the cheek. "Thank you for this."

"It is a small thing," Solas assured, turning to take his leave. "You are in good hands, commander."

"Lets get you out of this armour and into the tub," Trevelyan smiled, once they were alone again. At Cullen's startled expression, she chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to take advantage. Just let me care for you, I promise I won't do anything you do not want."

"I fear that is the problem," Cullen muttered, not quiet under his breath. Though after a moment, he nodded his ascent, and shaking hands began to unclasp his breast plate.

It didn't take to long to divest the commander of his armour, four hands working quicker than two, even if a pair were trembling the entire time. Evelyn deftly helped Cullen strip down to the trews he wore under his greaves, and gently led him to the tub, before politely turning her back as he removed his last garments and slipped into the water. When she heard him sigh in relief, Evelyn passed him a large wash cloth to cover his modesty.

"You can turn around," Cullen stated. He sounded a little embarrassed, but his tone had slightly dropped.

A flirtatious smile formed on her lips, as she handed him a cup of the potent tea. Her gaze wandered over his physique, appreciating the view immensely. After shrugging out of her jacket, revealing a white, cotton sleeveless top, Evelyn knelt beside the tub. She soaked another cloth in the fragrant water, before gentle sweeping it over the sculpted plain of Cullen's torso. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Trevelyan couldn't help but try to lighten the mood.

"I look forward to the day I can _really_ get my hands on you," she whispered salaciously. Smirking in satisfaction as she watched the commander blush furiously at her revelation.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Sorry for the long absence, I only just realised I forgot to say I needed to take a few weeks off. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. Chapter title is inspired by the Ellie Goulding song of the same name. ****So in this chapter, I wanted to explored/expand on Cullen and Trevelyan's interactions, but also Solas &amp; Trevelyan. Though part is also inspired by this prompt from the DA Kinkmeme: Remember that epic hug in the chapel between the Inquisitor and Cullen? The way he just clung to her and buried his face in the crook of her neck? Yeah, need more of that. + Cullen likes taking a moment now and then to press his cheek against the Inquisitor's and just hug her/hold her to ground himself.  
And for those of you who want to know: 'Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan'ara' means 'As you wish, my heart's desire'.**


	62. Something to Believe In

**Something to Believe In**

As the first rays of dawn awoke her, by flittering across her face, Evelyn languidly stretched, before rolling onto her side. She had expected to find Cullen asleep next to her, but the bed was empty, save for herself. A slightly panic gripped Trevelyan, as she sat bolt upright. Though it soon dissipated when she saw Cullen's impressive figure, clad only in his grey trews, leaning on the balcony balustrade, looking out over her favourite view.

Stifling a yawn, and running a hand absent-mindedly through her dishevelled, cropped red hair, Evelyn swung her legs out of bed. Thankfully, her bare feet met a plush, woven rug, rather than the cold, stone floor. Dressed only in the simple tunic and cotton shorts she had worn to bed, Trevelyan crossed the distance between her ornate, four poster bed, and where the commander was leaning.

Upon reaching him, Evelyn wound her arms loosely around his waist, resting her cheek against the broad expanse of Cullen's muscular back. She was relieved to find his skin was not as feverish as it had been the previous night, and Evelyn was in no doubt that was due in no small part, to the extra supplies Solas had given her. Silently, she made a mental note to seek out her fellow mage as soon as she could. However, Trevelyan's thoughts were interrupted, as Cullen folded his large hands over her much smaller ones.

"I wanted to thank you," he said, almost solemnly. "When you came to see me... if there's anything..."

Evelyn felt, more than heard Cullen sigh.

"This sounded much better in my head," he muttered.

Stifling a giggle, Evelyn tightened her embrace. "I trust you're feeling better?" she asked.

"I... yes..." Cullen said at length.

Giving him a final squeeze, Evelyn relinquished her hold, and settled next to him. Though instead of looking out over the view, Trevelyan chose to rest her back against the balustrade, and looked up at Cullen's handsome face instead. To her slight surprise, the commander's hand quickly found her hip, and he pulled Evelyn into a one armed hug. Allowing herself a small smile, she rested her cheek against his pectoral. Several heartbeats passed by, as they simply enjoyed each other's company, along with the crisp, mountain air.

"Is it always so bad?" Evelyn asked at last.

Cullen sighed, as he shifted his weight and pulled her flush against him. Trevelyan wasn't sure, but it almost felt as if the commander was stealing a final embrace, should she decide to turn tail and run. It would be a lie, if Evelyn said she hadn't been worried and anxious about Cullen's condition yesterday. Perhaps even a little scared. But they had gotten through it. Granted, only with some extra help. But that was what friends and family were for, wasn't it? Evelyn felt Cullen lightly kiss the top of her head, rousing her from her wandering thoughts.

"The pain comes and goes," he explained. "Sometimes I feel as though I am back there... I should not have pushed myself so far."

On instinct, Evelyn tightened her hold of the commander. "I'm just glad you're alright."

She felt Cullen look down at her, and feeling curious, Evelyn looked up at him, almost through her lashes. She found the commander's warm, brown eyes regarding her with open affection. A look that had butterflies threatening to flitter around her stomach.

"I am," he told her, a slight smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

Then, with out warning, his lips were on hers. Though it was sudden, the kiss was chaste and gentle. Sweet. It spoke of simple affection and quiet gratitude. And if possible, the fleeting gesture made Evelyn fallen in love with Cullen, just a little bit more.

"I never told anyone what truly happened in Ferelden's circle, I think the only one that comes close to knowing is Garnet Amell. I was not myself after that..." Cullen stated, his voice sombre. "I was angry. For years that anger blinded me. I'm not proud of the man I became."

Almost forlornly, Cullen shook his head, and his eyes refused to meeting Evelyn's gaze. However, his embrace remained strong, almost as if he was trying to protect her. As much as Trevelyan wanted to comfort him, she figured the commander needed to get whatever was troubling him, out in the open. So she remained quiet, offering her silent support by gently rubbing his lower back, as she returned his embrace.

"The way I saw mages..." Cullen paused, his eyes shutting tightly. When he spoke again, his voice was full of emotion. "I'm not sure if I would have cared for you." His lips caressed the top of Evelyn's head. "The thought of that... sickens me," he whispered into her hair.

Unsure what to say, or even if there _were_ words to say, Evelyn raised onto the balls of her feet. Lightly, she kissed Cullen's stubbled jaw, the only part of his face she could reach. The gesture earned her a small smile from the commander.

"Now I can put some distance between myself and everything that happened," Cullen continued. "It's a start."

"For what it's worth, I like who you are now," Evelyn said quietly.

The look Cullen levelled her with, was one of utmost surprise. "Even after...?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Evelyn did the only thing she was sure would silence his doubts. Without hesitation, her right hand gripped the back of his neck, and pulled Cullen down to meet her. Fully aware of morning breath, Evelyn kept the kiss chaste, but still poured as much affection into it as she could, her lips pressing hard against his.

"Cullen, I care about you," she chastised, once they parted. "You've done nothing to change that."

The smile she was rewarded with, was shy, bashful, but still managed to be utterly sexy. Trevelyan was not sure how he managed it, but somehow the commander pulled off sweet and sexy as a package deal. Not that she minded, not one iota.

Without warning, Evelyn suddenly found herself in Cullen's arms. Literally, in Cullen's arms. For he had picked her up, bridal style, and was carrying her back into her chamber. To surprised to even protest, Trevelyan allowed him to do so, kissing his cheek gently when he laid her back on the bed. For a wild moment, Evelyn wondered if their relationship was about to progress in a way she was _completely_ ecstatic with. However, as Cullen sat beside her, and pulled her into a loose embrace, Trevelyan realised that now wasn't the time, which she was also happy with... honest.

"What about you?" he asked, kissing her temple. "You have troubles of your own. How are you holding up?"

A huff of laughter was startled out of Evelyn. Other than Varric, Dorian and Daylen, no one else really ever asked her how she was. All her other friends made sure she was alright, in their own unique ways, mostly by keeping her grounded. But Evelyn really couldn't remember the last time some one simply asked how she was coping with all of it, and seemed to genuinely want to know the answer. It was unbelievably touching, if she were to be honest.

"There's times it still feels overwhelming," she replied. Which was something she rarely admitted, even to herself. "But I've met good people here, knowing they have my back, it helps."

"You certainly keep interesting company," Cullen stated, dryly. "Suppose I do as well."

At that moment, a shrill voice, that could only be Sera's, shouted: "Frigging what?! Piss up a rope. Andraste, what did I step in?"

"If she answers, let me know," a drawl voice that was certainly Dorian replied.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door that separated Evelyn's chamber from the winding stone staircase.

"Just wanted to know if you two love birds are joining us for breakfast, or if you want me to send something up," Dorian called, cheekily.

"How could I possibly start my day without seeing your handsome face," Evelyn retorted, throwing a wink to Cullen. "We'll be there shortly."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**First up, chapter title is inspired by the Bon Jovi song 'Born to be my Baby'. Obviously this is set after the previous chapter, and I just wanted to explore how the couple may be the next day. I didn't like how impersonal the scene seems in game, so this was my attempt to rectify it. Also, Sera's lines are actually ones she says in game, I just thought she'd brilliantly prove the point of 'interesting company'.  
And on a personal note, myself &amp; my husband would like to thank everyone who sent such lovely words of congratulations to us. When I started writing, I never expected to attract a following of readers, let alone ones as lovely as I have. Thank you to everyone who has been following &amp; enjoying this story. I promise to try my best to have this story ready before baby arrives. Six months! Wish me luck lol**


	63. Sweet Sacrifice

**Sweet Sacrifice**

The first thing that hit her, was the pain. Evelyn's head pounded, her entire body throbbed, especially her right shoulder. The hand that was marked by the anchor hurt, and her right felt hot and sweaty. She also couldn't remember feeling so drained. The second thing Trevelyan realised was that she wasn't alone. Someone was close by, very close, close enough to feel their breath on her face. Stifling a groan, she cracked her eyes open.

To say Evelyn was shocked to find Hawke lying face to face with her, was an understatement. Trevelyan's brow furrowed as she tried to recall what had happened, but her mind was drawing a blank. All she was aware of was Ruby's breath against her skin and the woman's left hand tightly clasped in her right. There was also the feeling of damp cold seeping into her body, and the hardness of stone aggravating her right shoulder that she lay upon.

Forcing her eyes to open fully, Evelyn took in more of the scene, yet it didn't bring her any comfort. Trevelyan remembered it being dark the last time her eyes were open, now the first rays of dawn were piercing the sky. Fenris was knelt behind Hawke, loving stroking his wife's hair. The worried look in his olive eyes, belied the stern set of his jaw. Beside the handsome elf was Varric, and the dwarf seemed to be glancing between herself and Ruby. A smile split across his face, as soon as he noticed Evelyn's gaze.

"Well... good morning Beautiful," he greeted, his roguish smile turning into an all out grin.

"Always a good morning, waking up to you Handsome," Evelyn managed to croak out.

"You're as bad as Ruby... and Isabella," Fenris observed, sparing Trevelyan a slight smile.

Varric's answering chuckle seemed to stir Hawke from her impromptu slumber, and Evelyn distinctly heard Fenris sigh in relief, as the Champion's eyes fluttered open. Though Trevelyan had little time to focus on the trio's conversation, as she soon felt long, elegant fingers carding through her cropped hair. For a moment, she thought it was Dorian, as the Tevinter mage often stroked her hair when they shared a tent together on their travels. However, her best friend's heady cologne didn't assault her senses as it normally would. Carefully, Evelyn turned her neck to glance over her shoulder, trying not to wince against the shooting pain in her right arm, and was surprised to find Solas gazing down at her. His stormy eyes reflected both concern and relief.

"You had us worried, lethallan," the elf said, his voice low and soft.

Evelyn's brow furrowed again. "I'm... sorry," she whispered hesitantly.

A unexpected shadow suddenly fell over her face, and blinking in confusion, Trevelyan looked up into the worried face of Blackwall.

"Do you not remember what happened, Evelyn?" the warden asked, his gruff voice unusually gentle.

A light pressure squeezed her right hand, and despite the slight spike of pain, it was a comforting gesture. Trevelyan looked towards Hawke, to find her fellow redhead smiling a little sheepishly at her. Tentatively, she returned the woman's squeeze, before releasing it. Cautiously, Evelyn began to sit up, only to whimper pathetically when she went to place weight on her right arm. Immediately, Solas' arms were around her. Bracing her injured limb, and helping her to sit up fully. Unabashed, Trevelyan leant her back against his chest, as she felt the tendrils of his healing magic begin to swirl around her.

"We are at Adamant Fortress," the Champion explained, as Fenris helped her upright. "We confronted Clarel and Eirmond."

"After chasing the pair through the fortress, a dragon appeared out of nowhere," Varric continued.

"Ruby was involved, of course there was a dragon," Fenris stated dryly.

"That sounds familiar," Solas said, deadpan.

The elf subtly rubbed Evelyn's injured arm as he spoke. The gesture soothed Trevelyan's racing mind, along with the pain from her injury, and filled her with a sense of comfort. If her mind wasn't still so foggy, she might have felt embarrassed or even a little guilty, finding such solace in her friend's arms. But at that moment, all she could think was that it felt so good to be held by him.

Blackwall grunted his agreement to Solas' statement. "Clarel tried to redeem herself. Even though she was mortally wounded, she still stopped the dragon from attacking us."

"As it fled, it damaged the bridge," Ruby continued quietly, as one arm slipped around her husband's waist, and the other sliding around Varric's shoulders.

"We fell, and you used the anchor to open a rift," the dwarf stated.

Evelyn's eyes widened as recollection came flooring back. She remembered the Fade. Maker! She remembered the Fade. Meeting the spirit that may or may not have been the Divine, but helped them regardless. Of regaining her memories of the fateful day Justinia died, of how she gained her mark, and escaped the Fade the first time. Of laying the spirit's of lost souls to rest, of battling a host of demons. Of the Nightmare Demon's words to each of them, of her anger at the way it tried to twist Fenris and Hawke's feelings for each other against them, and the way it tried to use Hawke against Varric. She remembered the terrible graveyard they had stumbled upon, the haunted and ashamed looks they had shared as their inner most fears had been revealed, along with that of their other companions.

Subconsciously, Evelyn's left hand found Solas', and her fingers entwined with the elf's. She remembered the Fade. Of what the tombstone baring her fellow mage's name had said. She could recall their fight against the Nightmare demon, of the way the spirit that could have been Justinia had sacrificed itself to help save them. Of the final, crazy dash as they had raced to the rift that meant freedom. Of the sickening panic as she watched Varric, Fenris, Solas and Blackwall race up the incline, only for herself, Hawke and Stroud to be cut off from them. Evelyn remembered the feeling of the Nightmare demon breathing down their necks. Of the argument the trio had, as their companions called to them. The sound of Fenris frantically pleading for Hawke to hurry, would perhaps always haunt Evelyn's dreams.

Trevelyan's eyes snapped shut. She remembered the fade. She clearly recalled her finally decision, as she agreed with Stroud's assessment that since the warden's had set in motion the terrible events, it was a warden that should make the sacrifice to let them escape. Evelyn remembered grabbing Hawke, and running hand in hand with her fellow mage, as Stroud's war cry rang in their ears. She remembered, and would never forgot. And even though a heavy weight sat in Trevelyan's chest, at the warden's sacrifice, she found a deeper sorrow forming a lump in her throat. Without thinking, her grip on Solas' hand tightened.

"I swear on my life," she began, her voice so low, it was only audible to his sensitive ears. "You will never die alone."

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**I know this is a bit of a jump cut in the story, but it was what was in my head. I also didn't want to write **_everything_** that happened with Adamant, because we all played the game, we know what happened. Other than that, even before this story took a life of it's own with the Solas/Trevelyan undercurrent, Solas' tombstone in the Fade really bothered me, and I wanted to slightly address that here. Chapter title inspired by the Evanescence song of the same name.**


	64. Bricks & Mortar

**Bricks and Mortar**

It had been a sombre two weeks traipsing back from Adamant, Stroud's sacrifice weighing heavily on all who had fallen into the Fade. Trevelyan also knew Solas was somewhat angry with her, for allowing the Warden's to stay and join the ranks of the Inquisition. In truth, it hurt. And the elf's reinstated aloofness, was making Evelyn sorely miss her friend. However, as much as Trevelyan stood by her decision, she couldn't lie and say she was as confident as Blackwall was, about the Wardens' ability to integrate with the Inquisition's forces. So Evelyn had been more than relieved, and a little surprised, when Morrigan... of all people, had offered to get in touch with Garnet Amell for her.

Another piece of good news, came in the form of Hawke and Fenris agreeing to stay with the Inquisition. Just like the rest of her inner circle, the pair were not under Cullen's command, but Evelyn's own, which seemed to suit everyone nicely. However, Stroud's death was still weighing heavily on her mind. She didn't want to burden Ruby with her concerns, for she knew her fellow mage was also struggling with what had happened. So as the evening mists surrounded Skyhold, Evelyn had set out in search of Varric. Not that it was a hard task to find him...

Unceremoniously, Trevelyan flopped down into the chair beside Varric, as the dwarf sat staring into the embers of the fire. Without a word, Evelyn uncorked the bottle of red wine she had brought with her, taking a hearty swig, before handing the bottle to her companion. Varric spared her a small smile, obviously remembering the first time they had shared a drink, back when Haven was still standing. He took several gulps, before setting the bottle on the table behind them.

"I knew Stroud, not well," Varric said at length, his eyes trained on the dancing flames. "He saved Hawke's little brother from the Blight. Not many people knew who he was, but the man was a hero. He wasn't the first good man to fall to Corypheus, and he wont be the last." He sighed then, and regarded Evelyn with eyes full of emotion. "This story is no good for heroes."

An unexpected lump formed in Evelyn's throat, and silently she took Varric's hand in hers. She knew what he was saying, what he was worrying about. Another time, another place, Trevelyan would have made a joke about some heroes making it. But Stroud's sacrifice had left a wound in her heart, that she would never have expected before. Evelyn knew it was something she would carry with her for the rest of her life, however long that may be.

"It's good that Hawke made it back in one piece," she said eventually, her voice heavy with emotion.

Varric squeezed her hand. "Yep. Closest thing I've ever seen to a miracle there..." He glanced at her sideways. "Fenris doesn't know, but Hawke told me you're the reason she's still alive."

Evelyn gave a weary sigh. "It was the hardest, and easiest decision I ever made," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was my word that sent Stroud to his death, but there was no chance I could let Hawke pay for what the Warden's had done. Even though Stroud had no part in it..."

"It was his duty," Varric finished for her. "Shit."

Without preamble, he handed her the bottle of wine, and Trevelyan gladly took several long gulps. When she was finished, the bottle was half empty. Just as Evelyn was about to suggest they go to the tavern, Solas stormed through the door that led to the rotunda. Cole was hot on his heals.

"No," the elf stated, harshly. Obviously in answer to whatever Cole had said.

Solas gave Evelyn a pointed look as he passed, heading towards the stairs the lead to the upper courtyard. She had no doubt that the elf was still mad at her, but there was something in his look that thought he was asking for her help.

"But you like demons," Cole argued, as the pair disappeared from view.

Trevelyan and Varric exchanged worried glances. Before Evelyn practically vaulted over the table, and hurried after the pair. Ignoring the scandalised looks of the nobles, she jogged passed them, and down the stone steps. Whatever was going on, it was not good. Which was only made all the more evident, when Evelyn heard Solas say:

"And I do not practice blood magic!"

As Trevelyan reached the pair, Solas gave her another weighted look. However, before she could ask what was wrong, Cole rushed over to her, tightly grabbing her hands in his. As he often did when agitated.

"He wont bind me," the spirit stated. "He's a mage, and he likes demons, but he wont help."

Without thinking, Evelyn drew Cole into a hug. "He likes spirits, not demons," she said patiently. "But why would you want Solas to bind you?"

"So I'm safe!" he replied, like it was an obvious answer.

Cole suddenly pulled away from Evelyn, and began to purposefully walk across the courtyard, towards the mage's tower. Solas and Trevelyan quickly exchanged glances, before hurriedly following the upset spirit.

"If Solas wont do the ritual to bind me, someone else could. Will," Cole stated. "Like the Warden mages, then I'm not me any more." He stopped before he reached the staircase that led up to the tower. "Walls around what I want. Blocking. Bleeding. Making me a monster."

Evelyn could feel the weight of Solas' gaze, though instead, she chose to focus on Cole instead. It was a risky thing, what she planned to say, for it could serve to worry the spirit further. However, it was the only thing Trevelyan could think of that may help.

"That's true of all of us," she said cautiously. "A mage using blood magic could conceivably do that to any one of us. Human, elf, dwarf _or_ spirit."

"You should ask Solas to bind you to," Cole replied. "And then someone can bind him."

For a whole-ungodly-moment, Evelyn's mind went somewhere it certainly shouldn't have. And the images her mind conjured where wholly inappropriate. Still, Trevelyan couldn't help but risk a fleeting glance at Solas, and the unusual look he was giving her, made Evelyn wonder if his mind had wandered into the same, dangerous territory. However, now was not the time or place to dwell on it, if there ever would be a right time. So Evelyn turned back to the matter at hand.

"We'll find a way to protect you Cole, without having to bind you," she said.

"I have a suggestion,_ if_ Cole is ready to listen," Solas stated.

Much like a naughty child afraid of being scolded, Cole ducked behind Evelyn, and peeked out at Solas, from underneath the large brim of his hat. Evelyn was hard pressed not to out right laugh, and even Solas' stern countenance began to dissolve with the spirit's antics. Which, in hindsight, could have been exactly what Cole was aiming for.

"I recall stories of amulets used by Rivaini seerers," Solas explained. "To protect spirits they summon, from rival mages. A spirit, wearing an Amulet of the Unbound, was immune to blood magic and binding. It should protect Cole as well."

"Do you have one?" Cole asked, a little sheepishly.

Solas shook his head. "The resources of the Inquisition could be used to find one."

"I'll have both Josephine and Leliana send people to look," Evelyn agreed.

"Good," Cole acknowledged. "They will not take me."

With that, the spirit disappeared, leaving Evelyn and Solas regarding each other. The silence stretch out uncomfortably between them, before the elf abruptly turned to leave. Without thinking, Trevelyan reached out, hoping to halt his retreat. She hated the rift that had formed between them since Adamant, and she really was at a lose as to why it had formed. They had disagreed on her decisions before, but nothing had ever driven such a wedge between them.

The elf whirled around to face her, coming almost nose to nose with her. Evelyn could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, and for some inexplicable reason, the air felt charged between them. Solas' stormy eyes bore into hers intently, and for reasons beyond her control, Evelyn found her eyes travelling to his lips, that were mere inches from hers. She felt his fingertips take hold of hers, and looking up at him, through her lashes, Evelyn found Solas regarding her with a hungry expression. It brought her thoughts back sharply to the night in the Fade, and not for the first time, Evelyn found herself wandering what he would taste like in the real word. It would take no effort at all, to close the distance and find out.

A gleeful woop broke the moment.

"Trevi! Trevi! After a bit of Elven glory? What would commander-fancy-britches say?" Sera crowed, from her perch on the roof.

Shutting her eyes, Evelyn didn't even dignify the archer's leering by turning in her direction. Instead, she made a rude gesture over her shoulder, one that even drew a snort of laughter from Solas. Swallowing thickly, Evelyn glanced in her friends direction. Her heart was still pounding, but Sera's interruption had allowed her a moment of clarity, that was obviously sorely needed. For in truth, she wasn't sure how stopping her friend walking away, had resulted in them almost kissing. Solas, for his part, looked equally unsure.

"So, I should concentrate the search around Rivain?" Evelyn asked, somewhat awkwardly.

"That would be a fair point to start, though I would advise inquiry into private collections too," Solas replied, as they began walking back to the great hall.

Even though the silence was awkward, perhaps even a little uncomfortable, Evelyn was glad they were at least in each other's company again. As they passed Varric's table, the dwarf glanced up at them. Evelyn squeezed his shoulder, in a gesture that had come to mean 'I'll tell you later'. Silently, she and Solas continued on to the rotunda. Though as they reached his desk, the elf turned to her.

"For whatever I've done to upset you, I'm sorry," Evelyn blurted out. "I know you don't agree with my decision about the Wardens, but I'd rather them be where we can keep an eye on them, rather than them wandering around out of sight, causing who-knows what type of trouble."

Solas seemed taken a back by her words, because for a moment, he merely regarded her silently. It was as if he was mulling over her words. Then, he gave her an unexpected smile.

"Forgive me, I did not realise your reasoning was thus," he stated.

"I am no fool Solas," Evelyn replied, barely keeping her indignation out of her voice. "I am just as concerned as you are, over Corypheus' remaining hold on them. But I'd be more worried, if we could not keep an eye on them. Morrigan has offered to get in contact with Warden-Commander Amell..."

"The hero of the fifth Blight?" Solas interjected.

"Just so," Trevelyan agreed. "And I intend to ask Leliana if she would contact King Alistair regarding the Wardens as well. He was one, so I'm hoping he'll also be able to give us insight into what we may need to look out for."

"You reason shrewdly," he replied, offering her another smile.

Tilting her head to the side, Evelyn regarded her companion. "Are we alright?" she asked.

Her question seemed to catch Solas off guard, for his eyes widened, and he took a moment to consider his reply. "We are," he finally answered, much to Evelyn's relief.

"Good. I've missed you," Trevelyan admitted, before darting up the stairs in search of her spy master.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**So this chapter is just a collection of things that I figure happened after Adamant. And of course, there needed to be some Trevi/Solas UST, because there hasn't been any in a while. Chapter title is inspired by the Cancer Bats song of the same name (mainly for what lead singer, Liam Cormier describes the song as).**


	65. The Kids Aren't Alright

**The Kids Aren't Alright**

"Shit..." Varric muttered under his breath.

It was a sentiment that Trevelyan fully agreed with. Witnessing the usually benign Cole simply... lose it, for there was no other way Evelyn could think to describe what she was seeing, could only be summed up with that one word. The man that was grovelling at Cole's feet had turned ashen, as he looked up terrified at the spirit, who was wielding one of his wickedly sharp daggers.

"Shit," Varric muttered again.

Just as they heard Cole yell: "You forgot. You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire, and you forgot, and I died in the dark."

"Shit," Evelyn whispered.

As unnerving as the scene unfolding in front of them was, Trevelyan was immensely glad it was so early in the morning, and that the residents of Redcliffe had not yet stirred from their beds. The only ones to witness what was happening, was herself, Varric and Solas. All who stood in shocked horror, as the chilled morning mist swirled around them. However, as Cole gripped the hapless man's mousey brown hair tighter, forcing the man to bare his throat, Solas was the first one to snap out of his stunned inertia.

"Cole, stopped," the elf called out, as he strode towards the spirit.

The sound of Solas' voice dragged Evelyn out of her horrified trance, and after tugging on Varric's coat sleeve, the pair of them jogged after her fellow mage. Luckily, Solas' voice had seemed to have broken Cole's murderous focus, for the spirit was now regarding him, and the hapless man was no where to be seen. An almost feral sounding snarl escaped Cole, as he realised his target was gone, and he began to prowl towards the church. Varric darted in front of him, with a speed that only a rogue could manage.

"Take it easy kid," Varric soothed.

"He killed me!" Cole yelled. "He killed me, that's why it doesn't work. He killed me, and I have to kill him back."

For a heartbeat, Evelyn closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. The amulet of the unbound had not worked as Solas had foreseen, which was the reason why the four had journeyed to Redcliffe, in order to collect a rare tomb thought to be in the Arl's library. The turn of events had been more than a little unexpected. However, if what Cole was saying was true, Trevelyan suspected that was the reason the amulet failed.

"Cole, wait," she said, gently.

The stark contrast in her tone to everyone else's, seemed to have the desired effect. For Cole calmly turned to face her, and Evelyn noticed with some relief, that the spirit had finally sheathed his dagger.

"Before anyone gets killed, we need to know what's going on," she continued, evenly.

"Cole, this man could not have killed you," Solas tried to reason. "You are a spirit, you have not even possessed a body."

In the unnerving way that only Cole managed, the spirit's icy blue eyes locked straight on Evelyn's. The unwavering gaze reminded her of the last night in Haven, and the way Cole had told her Corypheus wanted her dead. It was a look that never boded well, and Evelyn's heart began to pound in her chest, as she waited for whatever was about to unfold.

"A broken body," Cole stated, his voice monotone. "Bloody, banged on the stone cell. Guts gripping in the dark, dank. The captured apostate."

"Shit..." Varric whispered.

Evelyn nearly jumped, to hear her friend so close, for her world had narrowed down to listening to the spirit. Gently, Varric's fingers laced with hers, and Trevelyan gave the dwarf's hand a grateful squeeze. Out of all her friends, Varric was the only one she had ever confined in her private fear of being dragged back to the circle. Perhaps his friendship with Hawke and the fallen Anders had made her open up to him. But it seemed Varric had a natural incite that other's didn't, for he always knew the exact moment she needed comfort.

"They threw him into the dungeon of the Spire at Val Royeaux. The forgot about him, he starved to death," Cole continued.

Varric gave a quiet, sad sounding sigh. It prompted Evelyn to squeeze his hand tighter, even as a tear rolled down her cheek. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solas shake his head in disgust, but her focus was still riveted to Cole.

"I came through to help," the spirit explained. "And I couldn't, so I became him. Cole."

"If Cole was an apostate, that would make the guy we just saw a Templar," Varric said, quietly. "Must have been out to buy lyrium."

"Let me kill him," Cole practically growled, beginning to pace. "I need to. I need too..."

Evelyn and Varric exchanged worried glances, as Solas walked over to join them.

"Any ideas?" she asked, keeping her voice hushed.

"We cannot let Cole kill the man," Solas stated, quietly.

"I don't think anyone was going to suggest that, Chuckles," Varric whispered in reply.

"Cole is a spirit," Solas continued. "The death of the real Cole wounded him. Perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive."

"Come on!" Varric scoffed. "You don't just forgive someone killing you."

"Or someone you care about," Evelyn added, remembering the rage Solas had flown into after finding his friend, Wisdom, turned into a Pride demon.

"You don't, a spirit can," Solas argued.

Trevelyan shook her head. As much as she respected her fellow mage, she felt he was way off the mark with this. Cole was so much more than an 'average' spirit. His own admission that he had chosen to become 'human', was testament to that.

"Varric?" she queried.

"The kid's angry, he needs to work through it," the dwarf replied, his warm brown eyes filled with compassion.

"A spirit does not work through emotions," Solas argued. "It embodies them."

"But he isn't a spirit, is he?" Varric challenged, voicing Evelyn's own feelings on the matter. "He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person."

"You would alter the essence of what he is?" Solas demanded, anger coming into his voice.

"Cole already has," Evelyn said, calmly.

Varric nodded. "He did that to himself when he came out of the Fade. I just want to help him survive it."

"I'm sorry, Solas," Trevelyan apologised. "But I agree with Varric. Cole will never grow fully, until he comes to terms with what happens."

The look Solas gave her was withering, but this time Evelyn refused to be made to feel guilty for her choice. As much as her fellow mage liked spirits, probably even preferring them to those in the waking world, he hadn't spent as much time with Cole as either herself or Varric had. Evelyn knew she had adopted Cole as a younger brother, Varric had almost taken on a fatherly figure. Which, according to Hawke, was something he did quite often with younger members of the group.

"Leave it to me," the dwarf assured, before heading off to collect Cole, who was perched on top of the town square's statue.

In silence, she watched the pair stride in the direction the man had fled. In truth, Evelyn wanted nothing more than to accompany them, if only so she wasn't left alone with an angry Solas. They had barely made peace since her decision to recruit the wardens, and she had no doubt her decision to 'side' with Varric, would harm their relationship yet again. The air between them was already beginning to feel tense and uncomfortable.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Inquisitor," Solas stated, his tone cold and aloof.

Evelyn's eyes narrowed at the use of her title. It was something the elf always resorted to, whenever he felt she had made a poor choice. And if she hadn't been so concerned for Cole, Trevelyan might have let her manners slip, and really given Solas a piece of her mind. As it was, it still took a great deal of energy, to damped down the sparks of fire the flickered on her finger tips.

"What I am doing, is what I truly feel is best for a friend," Evelyn replied, through gritted teeth. "You may know more about the Fade, but you do not know Cole as Varric or I do."

At that moment, the hapless Templar raced passed them, as if the Maker himself was at his heels. A wicked smirk pulled at Evelyn's lips as she saw both the fearful look on the man's face, and the fleeting look of surprise that flashed in Solas' stormy eyes. A heartbeat later, Varric and Cole emerged. The faced with set in grim masks, but at least the murder in the spirit's eyes had abated. Once they reached herself and Solas, Cole linked his arm through Evelyn's, as he liked to do when they walked the ramparts of Skyhold together. Trevelyan was hard pressed not to breath a sigh of relief.

Varric gave her a knowing look. "We're done here."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Well, this is my take on Cole becoming more human. I wanted to include it, as I think Cole is a big part of Trevi's life. I also can imagine Solas would feel she had 'chosen' Varric's side over his, just a feeling I get from the in game dialogue, so I wanted to include how uncomfortable it would feel, as they waited for Cole &amp; Varric to return. Chapter title is inspired by the Offspring's song of the same name, mainly because it was in my head watching the in game cutscene!**


	66. Lean on Me

**Lean on Me**

Trevelyan was hard pressed to bite back the snarl that wanted to pull at her lips. The last few weeks had been gruelling enough, and often harrowing. Since the debacle with Cole, there had been a never ending run of tasks her companions needed help with.

First there was the Iron Bull and the Qunari, and Evelyn's heart went out to the behemoth. She knew he didn't begrudge her saving the Chargers over the dreadnought. In fact, Evelyn had an inclining he was relieved about it. But he had since been declared Tal-Vashoth by his people, a traitor, and there had already been a few laughable assassination attempts.

Then there was Vivienne's hunt for the heart of a snowy wyvren. The expedition to actually acquire the heart hadn't been too bad. With Hawke and Fenris accompanying Evelyn, Varric, Dorian and the Iron Bull, the journey had been filled with Varric spinning the tale of Hawke's exploits in Castle Haine and the intriguing elven assassin, Tallis. It was upon returning with the heart, and subsequently accompanying Vivienne to Ghyslain that things turned harrowing. Evelyn had seen a new side to the First Enchanter, as the woman blinked back tears as her lover died. It was evident, and honestly a little surprising, that Vivienne had been with Bastien out of love, rather than the game.

Cassandra's request to check up on the Seekers had come next, and Varric and Solas had travelled with the pair. The whole ordeal had been a nightmare. From finding Cassandra's protégé: Daniel, mortally wounded beyond even the combined healing spells of Evelyn and Solas, to hunting down Lord Seeker Lucian and finding out the reason for his diabolical betray... even the aftermath, of consoling her friend after Maxwell's efforts had long since failed, and staying up until dawn, poring over the book Lucian had taunted Cassandra with, had been draining.

Evelyn had also helped Sera in her quest to protect the 'ordinary people' of Verchiel. It infuriated Trevelyan to see some of her 'fellow' nobility treating others so poorly, she had nearly punched the self-righteous Lord Harmond. It would have served the arrogant bastard right, if she had let Sera kill him. She knew neither Cassandra nor the Iron Bull would have had an objections, since they both seemed as angry as she was. However, common sense had won out over rage, and Evelyn had demanded Harmond make-a-mends by serving the Inquisition. It wasn't the resolution Sera had been hoping for, but the hyperactive archer had agreed it was a punishment of sorts.

Following that, was the debacle of clearing Josephine's family name, as well as halting an assassination plot against her. Along with helping Leliana put the ghost of Divine Justinia to rest. Those two escapades had thankfully gone remarkable well, and were strange glimmers of light in the troublesome times. However, they did little to help Evelyn's sense of weariness.

Next had been helping Varric clear up the mess that his lover, Bianca had caused. Evelyn's heart broke when she managed to piece together the parts of their romance, a lot was left murky, but it was evident that her beloved Varric had been the loser on all accounts. The fiasco Bianca had since caused, which when all was said and done, pretty much amounted to setting red lyrium loose on the world, had been the straw that broke the druffalo's back. Luckily, Hawke and Fenris had accompanied Evelyn, Varric and Bianca to Valammar. They had somehow managed to thwart the red lyrium operation there, but Trevelyan feared the damage had been done. According to Hawke, so did Varric, for he had broken things off with Bianca once and for all.

There was also the task of tracking down the Pavus family amulet for Dorian, which had been the original reason for Evelyn for being in Val Royeaux in the first place. She knew her best friend wanted and didn't want her help in equal parts, which is why she set about tracking down the current owner of the amulet. After hearing the man's demands, Trevelyan had readily agreed to help him enter the Celestine League. In truth, she found it utterly laughable, but she had faith that Josephine could pull it off, and not leave a trace of the Inquisitions involvement.

But this... this really took the biscuit.

Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the smell, Trevelyan traipsed the dank corridors of Val Royeaux's goal. She walked alone, repulsed at every mangy rat that ran across her path, until she reached her destination. With mixed emotions, Evelyn viewed the sole occupant of the woebegone cell. Sat, head bowed, on a manky cot was the man she had known as Blackwall.

_'Thom Rainier' _she corrected herself.

"I didn't take Blackwall's life," the man formally known as Blackwall said, without looking up. "I traded his death. He wanted me for the wardens, but there was an ambush, darkspawn... He was killed. I took his name, to stop the world from losing a good man. But a good man, a man that _he_ was, wouldn't have let another die in his place."

A sigh escaped Evelyn, as she leant her forearm against the bars of the cell. She couldn't deny being angry. Angry for the lie, the false identity she... and all the Inquisition had believed for so long. Then again, she also believed that actions spoke louder than words. And Blackwall... Rainier... had fought alongside her countless times, he had risked life and limb in name of the Inquisition. He could also have remained silently, let the last witness to his heinous crime die, and no one would have been any the wiser. But he hadn't, and Evelyn couldn't help but respect him for that, and for all the other deeds she had witnessed first hand. Perhaps, just perhaps, masquerading as Warden Blackwall had somehow invoked the man's essence. For whatever his name, that man she had fought beside all these long months, _was_ a good man.

"You saved that man, that took courage," Trevelyan stated.

"Courage?! I killed innocent people, destroyed Mornay's life and the lives of others like him. One moment of courage will not make up for that," Rainier replied, finally looking up at her. "Why are you here?"

"That depends on what you say," Evelyn answered, evenly.

In all honesty, there were many reasons why she was there, in the rat infested goal. The Blackwall she had know had been a good friend, a valued ally and team member. Someone she liked and respected. Evelyn had come to offer her support, even if no one else believed he deserved it, even Rainier himself. She had also come as Inquisitor. It was her organisation, her people, her friends and team mates that had been duped by the lies. It was the Inquisition forces, followers and also their critics that would demand answers, that would want to know the hows and the whys. She had come for the truth.

The man formally known as Blackwall rose from where he sat, and moved towards the cell bars. The dismal, flickering lamp light barely illuminated his face, but Evelyn could see the dark circles under his eyes, and even the tear tracks that marked his grizzled face. It wasn't the Blackwall that Trevelyan knew and had come to care for, it was a man who had lost all hope.

"Don't you understand?" he asked. "I gave the order to kill Lord Callier, his entourage, and I lied to my men about what they were doing. When it came to light, I ran. Those men, my men, paid for my treason. While I was pretending to be a better man. This is what I am." Shaking his head, Rainier all but crumpled to the dirty floor of his cell. "A murderer, a traitor, a monster."

For a brief moment, Evelyn wondered if this was the reason that the former Blackwall had warned her off him all those months ago, during their talk on the battlements. Then, shaking her head, Trevelyan shooed the thought out of her mind. That didn't matter. What mattered, lies not withstanding, was that her friend needed her, even if he didn't think he did. For better of worst, Blackwall or Rainier, he was one of her men, one of her team. Evelyn knew she couldn't abandon him to that fate that awaited him. Against her better judgement, Trevelyan crouched down beside the cell bars.

"I know you are more than what you say, have some faith in yourself," she said, assuredly.

For better or worse, she knew her decision had been made, now she just needed a plan. Without a word, she stood to leave, patting Rainier's hand that gripped the cell bars, before she walked away. Not wanting to linger in the depressing place, Evelyn hurried through the corridors, before almost gasping in relief when she reached the guard room, and it's more fragrant air. To her surprise, Cullen was waiting for her, leading her to wonder which of her companions had thought to summon him.

"I have Leliana's report of Thom Rainier," he said, keeping his tone and manner professional in front of the lingering, Orlesian guards.

Evelyn nodded, solemnly accepting the role of parchment. It didn't come as much surprise that her spy master already had such a report, though she did have to wonder whether Leliana had realised who Blackwall was, or if it was merely a matter of course that she had such a document.

"Give me the overview," she requested, formally.

"Looks like our friend was once a respected captain in the imperial Orlesian army," Cullen explained. "Before the civil war, he turned. He was persuade to assassinate one of Celene's biggest supporters. He led a group of fiercely loyal men on this mission, and told them nothing of it. His men took the fall for him. A few lucky ones, like Mornay, managed to escape... for a time."

To an outsider, they would simply observe a commander debriefing his leader in crisp, regimented fashion. However, Trevelyan had come to know her commander. She could pick out the pitch of his voice, or the brief moments when he clenched his teeth in agitation as he spoke. Evelyn could tell, without a shadow of a doubt, that Cullen was disgusted with what Rainier had done. She couldn't blame him, she was as well, and she knew how much Cullen cared for those under his command. The concern he showed for the recruits was something Evelyn admired, even loved, about him.

"Thank you," Evelyn replied, sombrely. "This is helpful... well, at least educational."

Side by side, they made their way from the gloom goal, and into the more refreshing rain that was currently showering Val Royeaux. With a sigh, Trevelyan tilted her head back, so the cool water splattered her face. It was oddly comforting, how the weather had seemingly adapted to suit the mood of current affairs.

"Don't blame yourself, we all made this mistake," Cullen said, in a hushed voice. "What do we do now?"

Evelyn sighed. "I really don't know."

It came as no surprise, that the commander seemed to pick up on not only her mood, but also her thoughts. Subtly, his gauntlet clad hand gently squeezed her gloved one, before he began to usher her towards the docks. Trevelyan managed a small, if somewhat forlorn, smile of thanks. The hubbub of the port and the smell of sea air often brought out a better humour in her.

"Blackwall... Rainier, has accepted his fate," he stated, as they came to lean on a strip of unoccupied railing. "But you don't have to. We have resources. If he is released to us, you can pass judgement on him yourself."

Another sigh escaped her. "Passing judgement on a friend..." She shook her head sadly, before glancing up at the commander. "If it were up to you, what would happen?"

"What he did to the men under his command, was unacceptable," Cullen replied, the scar on his lip curling in a way that looked like he was snarling. "He betrayed their trust, he betrayed ours. I despise him for it. And yet he fought as a warden, joined the Inquisition, gave his blood for our cause. And the moment he shakes off his past, he turns around and owns up to it. Why?"

A slight smile pulled at Evelyn's lips. "Some part of you is impressed with what he did, isn't it?"

Cullen gave the briefest of nods. "Saving Mornay the way he did, took courage, I'll give him that. But I can't tell you what to do..."

A genuine smile spread across Trevelyan's lips. "Though you've wanted to in the past."

Her gentle teasing earned her a huff of laughter from her companion, and daring a small show of public affect, Evelyn leant slightly into the commander's side. For several heartbeats, they stood in thoughtful silence, looking out over the choppy seas. Though she hated the idea of having to sit in judgement over a friend, Trevelyan already knew she couldn't let Rainier hang, even if he deserved it. The man she had come to know, did not. Quietly, she took a deep inhalation of breath.

"Have Rainier released to us," she stated.

Evelyn felt, more than heard, Cullen's exhalation.

"We must move quickly," he proclaimed, pushing away from the railings. "We can explore our options back at Skyhold."

"Agreed," Trevelyan nodded, quickly matching Cullen's powerful strides through the bustling crowd. "I'm sure Josephine can figure something out."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter title inspired by the Bill Withers' song of the same name, because, lets face it, everyone is turning to Trevi! For those who may be wondering (my lovely none UK readers I'm mainly looking at you) 'Taking the Biscuit', means something really bad, annoying or questionable. Also, Manky means unpleasantly dirty/disgusting. **


	67. Mowgli's Road

**Mowgli's Road**

Not for the first time, Evelyn was thankful that the ridiculous throne she sat on for sitting in judgement, was set away from the rest of the hall. It wasn't a great distance from the dais to where everyone else was gathered, but it was enough that she was sure no one would notice the way her hands trembled. Even though Trevelyan was resolute in her conviction that Rainier shouldn't hang, she had been dreading this day. Thankfully, this was a closed session, and the usual spectators were bared from the hall. The only ones present, were members of the inner circle, along with the Chargers and her advisers. People who had worked along side the former Blackwall on a regular basis.

As Josephine approached the dais, as she always did during these events, Evelyn's heart went out to her. She knew that the ambassador had been carrying a torch for the would-be-warden, and from the small trinkets and flowers that were almost a daily occurrence in Josephine's office, it seemed that Rainier had returned her feelings. For Trevelyan, presiding over one of her most trusted friends was hard enough, she couldn't imagine how Josephine must be feeling.

"For judgement this day, Inquisitor," the ambassador started, her accented voice low and sombre. "I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formally known to us as Warden Blackwall."

At the announcement, two of Cullen's most trusted recruits, ushered a chained and shackled Rainier up from the dungeon, and frog marched him to the front of the hall. Seeing someone she had grown to like and respect in such a manner, twisted Evelyn's insides. And out the corner of her eye, she saw Josephine brushing away a tear that threatened to fall.

"His crimes..." the ambassador paused, risking a glance at Rainier, before returning her chocolate brown eyes back to Evelyn. "Well... you are award of his crimes."

Trevelyan heard the silent plea: 'Please don't make me repeat them', and gave a respectful nod to her friend. There was no way she would make this more of an ordeal for Josie than was necessary. The ambassador returned her nod.

"It was no small expense to bring him here," Josephine continued. "But the decision of what to do with him, is now yours."

Cautiously, Evelyn cleared her throat, and gripped the arms of the throne tighter. "I never thought this would be easy, but it is harder than I thought. It pains me to see you like this," she addressed Rainier.

"Another thing to regret," the former Blackwall replied. "Using your ties to the underworld to free me? You're a criminal, same as me."

If Rainier thought he could get a rise out of her so easily, he was sorely mistaken. Not that she wasn't annoyed by the accusation. Securing Rainier's release had involved nothing more than reminding Celene, Gaspard and Briala of all the information the Inquisition had on them. In the two women's cases, crimes often much worse than Rainier's. A joyless, half smile tugged at Evelyn's lips, as she lent forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Funny, in Orlais I was told it was merely 'playing the game'," she replied, a hint of sarcasm and disdain creeping into her voice.

"The world will learn how you've used your influence. They'll know the Inquisition is corrupt," he countered.

Sadly, Evelyn shook her head. "I would have preferred there had been another way, but my options were limited, and this prevented any bloodshed or loss of life."

"You could have left me there," Rainier snarled. "I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end. Why would you stop it? What becomes of me now?"

"In answer to your first question, because the man I've known as Blackwall is a friend, and I do not turn my back on my friends," Evelyn explained. "And secondly... you have your freedom."

For a moment, there seemed to be a stunned silence. Though as her verdict sunk in, Evelyn benignly watched the reactions. Unsurprised, Vivienne looked appalled, but then again... this was a woman that thought her own kind should be locked up. Sera was actually beaming. Cullen and Cassandra nodded slightly in agreement, and Evelyn supposed they were thinking of how their respective orders had fallen. Dorian and Varric both gave her brief smiles, Cole just looked a little confused. Josephine looked relieved, Leliana gave her a knowing look. Which was unsurprising, since the Spy Master was the only one she had discussed her plan with. The chargers all mumbled there agreement, though the Iron Bull was hard to read, probably thanks to his Ben-Hassrath training. However, the Qunari gave Evelyn a quick wink to show his approval. The only person who's opinion Trevelyan couldn't gage was Solas, who was regarding her intently. Though before she could ponder this, Rainier was speaking again.

"It cannot be as simple as that," he said.

"It isn't" Evelyn agreed. "You are free to atone as the man you are. Not the traitor you thought you were, or the warden you pretended to be."

"The man I am? I barely know him," Rainier confessed. "It will take time. You would accept that?"

Trevelyan nodded, but remained silent.

"I have a lot to make up for," he continued. "If my future is mine, then I pledge it to the Inquisition. My sword, is yours."

"Thank you," Evelyn said, in relief. She had suspect that was what the man she knew as Blackwall would say, but obviously, she couldn't be sure.

"Tell me, if I had said any less, would an arrow from the rookery have snuffed me like a candle?" he asked.

An honest smile spread across Evelyn's lips, and Leliana gave a rare huff of laughter.

"Please, give me some credit. It would have been a dagger between the ribs whilst you slept," the spy master retorted.

"Gentleman," Trevelyan addressed the guards. "Release his bonds." Then with her smile threatening to turn into a smirk, she regarded the former Blackwall. "Take your post, Thom Rainier."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title is inspired by the Marina &amp; the Diamonds song of the same name. Not much to say about this chapter, I think it pretty much speaks for itself. Though, it did bother me how all the randomers were still in the hall in game, thus I needed to switch it up!**


	68. 101

**101**

Trying to keep the frown from her face, Trevelyan hurried across Skyhold's courtyard, towards Cullen's office. Despite the frigid wind and sleet, when Nadia had given her the cryptic message that the commander had been looking for her earlier, Evelyn decided to chance the elements, rather than deal with whatever maelstrom Solas would greet her with. This time, she was a little perplexed as to what exactly she had done wrong, to land herself in the elf's bad books, again... perhaps it was her decision to save and free Rainier, she wasn't sure. But whatever it was, she had obviously done something, for whenever Trevelyan tried to talk to her fellow mage, he would either come up with some vague reason to excuse himself, or it would descend into a debate that bordered on a row.

Pulling her cloak tighter around herself, Evelyn raced up the steep staircase that lead to Cullen's office, diligently trying to avoid the puddles of treacherous ice that had begun to form on the steps. Once of twice she lost her footing and stumbled, but quick reflexes save Evelyn from needing stitches to her chin or nose, though there were a few close calls. Finally, she reached the commander's office, and propriety be damn... Trevelyan let herself in without so much as a knock to herald her arrival.

The candles flickered erratically in the unrelenting wind. And unceremoniously, she banged the stout oak door shut behind her, before divesting herself of her now sodden cloak. Cullen rose from his chair, a crooked smile on his handsome face, as he rounded his desk.

"There you are," he greeted.

"Where you waiting for me?" Evelyn asked, a smile forming on her lips, as she ruffled her windswept hair.

"Yes... I mean no," Cullen replied.

Trevelyan raised an eyebrow at his answer. "I can come back later, if you'd prefer," she teased.

"No, please stay," the commander objected, crossing the distance between them. "We have some dealings in Ferelden, I was hoping you might accompany me... when you can spare the time, of course."

Evelyn's interest was piqued, even as she readily relaxed into Cullen's warm embrace. It had been too long since she had been able to enjoy the simple pleasure of his company, and she greedily inhaled the fresh, pine scent of him. A small sigh of contentment escaped her as she did, which prompted Cullen to pull her closer. It was then that Trevelyan realised that the commander had forgone his armour, in favour of a thick, grey woollen over jumper and black woollen trews. She couldn't help but smile at the knowledge, it was so rare to see Cullen out of his armour.

"Is something wrong?" Evelyn asked, hedging her bets. For her time in the Inquisition, had taught her to expect the worst.

"What? No..." Cullen assured, sounding a little nervous, which only heightened Trevelyan's curiosity. "I would rather explain there... if you wish to go."

Her smile widened, as she chanced a glance at the commander. True to form, a blush was beginning to creep up his neck. A wave of affection washed over Evelyn, and she raised on the balls of her feet to kiss Cullen's stubbled jaw.

"I believe there's time now, if you wish to brave the weather," she replied.

The idea of riding through the foul weather was less than appealing, but as miserable as it was, it was no storm, which meant the mountain ridge that lead to and from Skyhold would still be safe and passable. Cullen's answering smile was worth all of her misgivings about the weather.

"I will make the necessary arrangements," he assured, lightly kissing the top of her head.

"Guess that means I better get my travel bag ready," Evelyn chuckled, untangling herself from Cullen's grasp.

"Meet me at the gates in two hours?" the commander requested, to which Trevelyan readily agreed.

Exactly two hours later, with saddle bags in tow, Evelyn made her way day to the lower courtyard. Thankfully the wind and sleet had abated, and weak sunshine was trying diligently to break through the grey clouds. Cullen was already waiting for her, holding the reigns of her beloved Free Marchers Ranger: Peaches, and well as the reigns of a fine chestnut, Fereldan Forder. Which, really, came as no surprise to Evelyn.

Cullen greeted her with his customary, crooked smile, and Trevelyan couldn't help but pull him down for a kiss, the moment she was close enough. In companionable silence, he helped her secure her saddles bags, before helping her mount. It wasn't like Evelyn needed the help, but she would gladly accept his act of chivalry, especially when it was just the two of them...

* * *

**Author's Note**

**With how heavy the last few chapters have been, I thought it was time to change it up with a little bit of fluff! Chapter title inspired by the Albert Hammond Jr song of the same name.**


	69. Sixpence

**Sixpence**

The ride from Skyhold, through the ever changing countryside, had been brisk and exhilarating. For Evelyn, it had been freeing... to simply ride without the pressures of an impending mission weighing on her mind, was something unheard of. Cullen had also seemed to benefit from the four days of fast travel, for he seemed unburdened for the first time since Evelyn had met him. Their days had been blessed by good weather, which made covering the ground needed easy and enjoyable. At night, they had cuddled up under the stars and, thanks to Evelyn's expertly laid wards, had slept soundly and without incident.

The village, that seemed to be their destination, was quaint and quiet. Peaceful even. As if the raging war had yet to touch it. Dusk had since set, and the townsfolk had smiled and nodded politely at them, but to Evelyn's relief, no one had called out 'Herald' or 'Inquisitor'. The inn that their horses were stabled in, was clean and well appointed, and the proprietress: one Bobbi McGee, had made them most welcome. Though she was a little disappointed, it didn't surprise Evelyn that Cullen had arranged for them separate rooms. However, they were thankfully next to each other, which made her feel a little less anxious.

Other than her room in Skyhold and the occasional trip to her parent's estate, Trevelyan hadn't slept alone since she had been taken to the Circle. It left her feeling unnerved to do otherwise. Still, Evelyn pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, as she hurriedly splashed her face with cold water from the basin, and changed from her riding clothes. Opting for a complete change from her ordinary trousers and tunic, Evelyn donned the purple dress her mother had sent her, along with a black pair of leggings. Finally, she pulled her worn leather boots back on, pointlessly tried to tame her tousled, cropped red hair, and set out in search of Cullen.

It didn't take long to find the commander, for her was in the bar talking to Bobbi. When Evelyn caught sight of him, she couldn't help but admire the handsome picture he cut, dressed in dark trews and boots, along with a crisp, white shirt. The obvious way he admired her, and the crooked smile he greeted her with, sent butterflies flittering around Evelyn's stomach. In the hazy twilight, she walked with the commander through the dusty streets, enjoying the rare feeling of his bare hand in hers. Evelyn still had no idea where they were, or what their journey's purpose was, and by the time they reached a small dock that over looked a serene looking lake, her curiosity finally got the better of her.

"Where are we?" she asked, a smile curling her rouged lips, as she listened to the gentle lapping of the water.

Cullen chuckled quietly. "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask," he told her, leading her out onto the dock. "You walk into danger every day. I wanted to take you away from that, if only for a moment. I grew up here, this place was always quiet."

"Did you come here often?" Evelyn asked, gesturing to the lake in general.

Another chuckle escaped Cullen, as he slipped an arm around her waist. "I love my siblings, but they were very loud," he stated. "I would come here to clear my head... of course, they always found me eventually."

"You were happy here," she observed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I was, I still am," Cullen replied, kissing the top of her head.

"You know... you are alone with a mage," Evelyn teased, lightly. "You sure that doesn't concern you?"

"The Templars have rules on... fraternisation, I'm no longer bound by them," he stated, pulling her closer to his side.

"I know," she sighed. "But you have seen the worst mages have to offer, I worry you see that in me."

Why she was admitting this, confessing such a deeply held worry... fear, Evelyn wasn't sure. It especially confused her as to why she was admitting it now, in such a lovely, peaceful place. In truth, Evelyn worried she had ruined the moment. However, she knew there wasn't a thing she could do to take back the words. What's more, now they were out in the open, and not haunting her dreams, she wasn't sure if she even would.

Cullen gently placed a hand under her chin, and tilted Evelyn's face up to look at him.

"I don't," he said, quietly. "If I have given you reason to doubt..." Cullen paused, closing his eyes. "Of course I have."

On impulse, Evelyn raised on the balls of her feet, and lightly kissed the commander's stubbled jaw. "In the beginning," she clarified. "Less so now."

A small smile tugged at Cullen's lips. "Whatever I think of magic... thought of magic, I see none of that in you."

Unable to think of anything to say in response, Evelyn did the only thing she could think off, and wrapped her arms around Cullen's neck. There was a brief flash of surprise, in his warm brown eyes, before he smiled and wrapped both his arms around her waist. With a less than gentle tug, Evelyn pulled Cullen down to meet her. The softness of his scarred lips was a welcome feeling, and Evelyn ran her tongue lightly along the seam of his mouth, asking for entrance. Cullen readily obliged, and as their tongues languidly danced together, he held her tighter to his unarmoured body. His hold was firm, but not uncomfortable, and Evelyn enjoyed being able to feel the contours of his body without his bulky armour in the way. He tasted faintly of rich port, which he had obviously drank as he waited for her in the bar, and his comforting, fresh scent filled her lungs as she inhaled. On their own accord, Evelyn's hands moved to tangle in Cullen's hair, the curls soft and slightly slick from hair wax. With a contented sigh, on both their parts, the moment ended.

"So, tell me about this place," Evelyn said, conversationally. She rested her cheek against Cullen's chest, as her arms slipped around his waist.

"The last time I was here, was the day I left for Templar training," he explained. "My brother gave me this, it just happened to be in his pocket, though he said it was for luck.

As he spoke, Cullen pulled away from her slightly, and brought out a well worn, silver sixpence from his pocket. The face of Andraste was still clearly visible, though the the edge looked as if someone had rubbed the coin often. Out of habit, or perhaps nerves or home-sickness.

"The Templars are not supposed to carry such things," Cullen continued. "Our faith should see us through..."

Evelyn smiled at the notion, more so at the commander's brother, rather than the rigidity of the Templars. "A little luck can't hurt, now and then."

"I suppose not," he replied, a smile evident in his voice. "I should have died during the Blight... or Kirkwall, or Haven... take your pick. And yet I made it back here."

Subconsciously, Evelyn tightened her hold on Cullen. A hug that he readily return.

"Humour me?" he asked.

His sudden, unexpected question had Evelyn taking a step back so she could regard him properly. Cullen's adorable, crooked smile was tugging at his lips, and carefully, he placed the coin gently in her unresisting hand. Closing her fingers over it, and cupping her hand in his, as if the sixpence was some priceless treasure... In truth, part of Evelyn suspected that it truly was.

"We don't know what you'll face before the end," Cullen said. "This can't hurt."

"I'll keep it safe, I promise," Evelyn smiled, flattered he would entrust something so personally precious to her.

"Good," he whispered. "I know it's foolish... but I'm glad."

To her surprise, and immense delight, it was Cullen who chose to close the distance between them. With a firm tug, Evelyn found herself tightly wrapped in his arms again, and his lips firmly pressed against hers. As Cullen's tongue lightly ghosted along her lips, she opened her mouth instinctively, sending their kiss down a passionate road she hadn't expected.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**As you have probably guessed, this is my take on the lakeside scene between the pair. I tweaked it slightly, to be in Honnleath (where DA wiki states Cullen is from), rather than nearby. Also, the proprietress is called Bobbi McGee, simply because I wasn't listening to the Kris Kristofferson (or Janis Joplin, which ever you prefer) song 'Me &amp; Bobby McGee' at the time. I named the coin Cullen gives Trevi a six-pence, because looking through photos of medieval coins, a six-pence looks the most similar, and is of little enough value that a pre-teen could be carrying it in their pocket. Chapter title is inspired by a (very naff) traditional 'song' called: I've got a Sixpence. Now, it really is naff, as most ye olde rhymes are, but it came into my head when I first watched the cutscene... so the title stuck!**


	70. Trouble

**Trouble**

Upon returning from her trip to Honnleath with Cullen, Evelyn never expected to find Solas waiting for her, and in her chamber, no less. The elf had barely said two civil words to her in weeks, and the strain on their friendship had become so great, that Trevelyan hadn't even been able to consider bringing him on missions with her. Something that Varric, Dorian and even Cassandra had questioned her about. To see him standing by her chamber fireplace, waiting for her, was the last thing Evelyn expected.

Confusing feelings began to whirl inside her, as she admired the elegant aesthetic of her fellow mage, even though he was only wearing his customary green trews and longline, cream jumper. There was something about the elf, that never failed to call to a part of Evelyn that she didn't understand. Especially when his stormy eyes regarded her with such intensity. However, a wave of apprehension washed over her, as she regarded him. Solas had been cold and aloof for reasons beyond Evelyn's knowledge, for far too long. And she couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever his reason for being here, it didn't bode well. Still, as Solas gave her a slight, formal bow, Trevelyan couldn't help to huff of laughter that escaped her, at the absurdness of it all. A warm, genuine smile spread over help lips, as he gave her a questioning look.

"It's good to see you again," Evelyn said, honestly.

There was an obvious flash of surprise that crossed his face at her declaration, that made Trevelyan smile all the more. It was a rare sight to see Solas' composer ruffled, and despite being a little annoyed and more than a little hurt by his recent attitude towards her, Evelyn still found amusement at being the cause.

"And you, lethallan," Solas replied, much to Evelyn's own surprise. "I trust your time away was enjoyable?"

There was a slight edge to the elf's voice as he asked, one that Trevelyan couldn't quite place. Though, if she didn't know better, she would have said her fellow mage was jealous... which was ludicrous.

"It was... need," she answered, carefully. Finally setting her saddle bags down. "I hadn't realised how much I yearned for a break, until I was given it. And it is good to see things didn't crumble in my absence."

"I am sure Dorian and Josephine would tell you different," he retorted, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Evelyn gave a theatrical groan, flopping down unceremoniously on her sofa. "Don't! I can just imagine the mountain of paperwork Josie has waiting for me."

"Nothing of great importance, I can assure you," Solas chuckled, coming to join her.

"Dare I ask how you know?" Trevelyan questioned, propping her cheek against her fist, as her elbow rested on the back of the sofa.

An unexpected, almost sheepish look crossed the elf's face. In truth, she hadn't been really aware that Solas could look self-conscious. But at that moment, her fellow mage looked down right abashed.

"I may have took the liberty of securing an extended period of reprieve for you," he stated, his tone even. At Evelyn's raised eyebrow, he continued: "I informed Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra that you would need a few days spent in intense training, away from Skyhold, in order to further unlock the mark's potential."

To say Trevelyan was confounded, would be an understatement. However, as was often her down fall, Evelyn was also intrigued. She had no doubts, that whatever escapade Solas had in mind, it would involve just the two of them. The elf was a very private person, and though she knew he had grown to regard certain members of the Inquisition, the elf was not one for involving many people in his affairs.

"Alright..." she said at length. "Where, and when, are we going?"

A flicker of emotion, quite possibly relief, flashed through Solas' stormy eyes.

"Tomorrow," he answered, a slight smile tugging at his mouth. "And... I ask for you to trust me."

Evelyn couldn't help but narrow her eyes at his last sentence. If he hadn't been so stand-offish over that past few weeks, she wouldn't have given it a second thought. Now though, she had to admit to herself, she was a little wary. However, despite her misgivings, Trevelyan had an inkling there was more to this, than met the eye. So she nodded her agreement, slowly.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Yes, another build up chapter... because it needs to happen. Brownie points for anyone who can guess what the next chapter might be! Chapter title inspired by the Coldplay song of the same name.**


	71. Amen

**Amen**

In a silence that was actually companionable, they tethered their mounts just inside the cave entrance, setting wards as they did. Crestwood had been a surprising choice of location, but the ride had been amicable, and for once, the rain had abated from the usually gloomy area. Solas' Tirashan Swiftwind pawed the ground impatiently. Though Valiant, the Anderfel Courser that Blackwall had kindly leant Evelyn, merely set about munching the dewy grass.

To her surprise, Solas offered her his arm, which Evelyn took on instinct. In the same, companionable silence, they walked through the dark tunnel. Their werelights making the damp rock walls glimmer. It wasn't long until the sound of a waterfall reached Evelyn's ears, quickly followed by the unmistakable smell of wild flowers. Within moments, soft moonlight illuminated their surroundings, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful glade. A gentle rolling mist caressed the lush greenery that carpeted the area. And two immense, majestic looking, hart statues proudly guarded the gushing waterfall.

Subconsciously, Evelyn tightened her grip on Solas' arm, as she looked about in open wonder. The beauty of the place was nothing short of magical.

"The veil is thin here," Solas said, his voice barely above a hushed whisper. "Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?"

As if his words had summoned the feeling, Evelyn's skin began to prickle, in a way that used to happen right before a thunder storm, when she was a little girl. A surprised, breathy huff of laughter escaped her, at the realisation.

"I can," she smiled, still admiring the view. "This place is... stunning."

There was a drawn out silence, one that lasted long enough to prompt Evelyn to turn and face her companion. Solas was regarding her intently, though his stormy eyes where surprisingly soft. His gaze was almost affectionate. Something that sent Evelyn's heart pounding inexplicable in her chest. Unexpectedly, Solas cupped her cheek.

"I was trying to determine some way to apologise to you, for my recent behaviour," he stated. "Much has been on my mind. You have been a good friend, ma vhenan'ara... and I owe you the truth."

Evelyn's brow furrowed. "The truth?" she queried, perplexed.

A sad sounding sigh escaped the elf, as he took a step back. His eyes cast away from her, training resolutely on the ground. In heavy silence, Trevelyan waited for her companion to speak. Torn between reaching out to offer some sort of comfort against whatever was troubling him, or to remain detached and to give him space.

"I am... I must tell you..."

He trailed off, his words ending in another sigh. Solas closed his eyes, and shook his head, almost forlornly. Without a word, he began to turn away from her, as he had often times before. Pure instinct made Evelyn reach out to him, her hand lightly enclosing around his wrist.

"Solas..."

Without warning, Evelyn found herself pressed against the hard plains of his body. Solas' lips were fiercely pressed against hers, his hands held her in a firm embrace, as her own found purchase on his broad shoulders. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and against reason, she yielded to his request. Evelyn's blood pounded in her ears, as her heart beat a frantic, yearning rhythm. She hadn't known so much blatant need, so much carnal want lived within her. Her fingers dug into the woollen fabric of his jumper, as mind was overridden by body. Rhyme, reason and common sense fled the picture. And without concious though, Evelyn gave herself over to the madness. Moaning softly, as Solas' hands began to rove wantonly over her body. The kiss was artless, desperate. But it was real.

Time lost meaning, until they broke for air. When, unfortunately, reality reinserted itself. _'Shit!' _Evelyn thought, as realisation dawned._'Shit!'_

A small smile tugged at Solas' lips. "You are unique," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined."

Once again, the air seemed to crackle between them, as for a timeless moment, they stood regarding each other. Evelyn swallowed thickly. She felt that familiar, unfathomably pull, that made her ache for the mysterious elf. Tentatively, Solas' lightly kissed her forehead, then her nose. Evelyn's heart began to race, as he moved to close the scant distance between them again. It was too much. Common sense made a successful attack of the haze that engulfed Evelyn, and she turned her face away, burying her shame in the crook of his neck. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**First up, chapter title inspired by the Leonard Cohen song of the same name. Obviously, this is my spin on the whole 'waterfall end of romance scene' an elf Inquisitor has with Solas. I thought I'd twist it, that instead of him admitting who he is, when he chickens out, he admits his feelings for her instead. Of course, this is going to put dear Trevi in a bit of a pickle!**


	72. Dilemma

**Dilemma**

With a sigh, Evelyn sunk into the fragrant water of her bath, letting the citrus aroma lift her spirits... or try to at least. In truth, she had been in turmoil ever since her journey to Crestwood. Never could she have imagined how events would turn out. At the memory, Evelyn's lips positively tingled. Without hesitation, she dipped her head under the warm water, hoping to halt the tears that threatened to form. She was so confused.

The kiss she had shared with Solas was both so right, and so very wrong. Trevelyan could no longer deny the powerful... something, that pulled her towards the mysterious elf. However, there was Cullen to consider. Just the thought of the commander made her smile, and filled her heart fit to burst. His sweetness and his kindness called to her in ways that the pull of her fellow mage did not. Still, her thoughts and dreams had often wandered towards Solas, and now there was no denying the attraction they both shared.

Stifling a frustrated groan, Evelyn resurfaced. And leaning forward, she buried her face in her hands. She was coming to the awful realisation that she may have fallen in love with both of them.

However, whilst still in Crestwood, she had managed to tell Solas that whilst she cared for him, greatly, she was already with Cullen. Thankfully, he had accepted that. Even going so far as to apologise for his selfishness, which fractured a part of Evelyn's heart. She had seen the emotion in his stormy eyes, as he promised not to let his feelings interfere with their friendship, or their mission, again. The return journey had been a little awkward, but any animosity between them had seemed to be cleared from the air. Granted it had been replaced with a different type of tension, but at least it allowed them to talk and work together again. Even in Evelyn found her gaze often slipping to admire Solas' form, more times than she cared to admit.

Wrapping on the lower door of her chamber, brought Trevelyan shortly out of her thoughts. And before she could call out, the sound of striding footsteps greeted her ears. Just before she could shout her protest, a thick head of raven hair came into review. Immediately, Evelyn relaxed.

"Gallivanting around, alone, with two separate men... Now lounging in the tub, like a lady of leisure. You little minx," Dorian greeted, jovially. "Everyone is gathered in the Great Hall," he continued, handing her a towel.

At her confused expression, his rich laughter rung around the room.

"You know... this imperative war meeting your advisers insisted on," he teased.

A frustrated groan escaped Trevelyan. She had completely forgot about the war council. Well, that wasn't strictly true. She had been so caught up in her whirling thoughts, that Evelyn could have sworn Josie had said the meeting was tomorrow night. Completely unabashed to be seen naked by her best friend, she stepped out of the tub.

"Grab me a tunic?" she requested, as she began to hurriedly dry herself.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**So, a little bridge of a chapter, before leading into the next section. Chapter title inspired by the Nelly song of the same name.**


	73. How the Years Go By

**How the Years Go By**

Biting back a sigh, Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. The meeting had dragged on far longer than anyone had anticipated. Whereas the thought to include all the inner circle in the planning was a good one, in practice it left a lot to be desired. Beneath the table, she felt Dorian squeeze her knee in solidarity. And across the table, Hawke gave her an understanding wink. It seemed Evelyn wasn't the only one suffering with the circular debate. And even the ever cheerful Dagna, who had joined the talk from an engineer's point of view, looked ready to bang her head on the table.

So far, the only thing that could be agreed on was that they needed to take the fight to Corypheus, which meant venturing into the Arbour Wilds. She fully agreed with Morrigan's assessment that a place called: The Temple of Mythal, was the most likely place for the darkspawn magister to be heading. As did Solas. However, Cullen's concerns were about the route of attack, and about how the troupes would engage Samson and his Red Templars. This is what had caused the most debate. Cullen, Cassandra, the Iron Bull, Blackwall and even Fenris all have very valid, but often quite different strategies on how to proceed.

Thankfully, supposedly on pure intuition... though Evelyn suspected a forward word from Morrigan, Leliana had dispatched several of her best scouts into the area already. And using ancient maps that Dorian and Fiona had managed to find in Skyhold's library, they already had a decent idea of the lay of the land, as well as where the main pockets of Red Templars were currently situated.

However, as another round of circular debating started, which prompted Varric to flash Evelyn an exasperated look, the outer doors of the main hall where pushed open. As one, the assembled group turned towards the interloper. For the rest of Skyhold had be told, this was a private meeting. However, as two figures stood against the background of the raging snowstorm that was currently whipping around the fortress, Evelyn heard Cullen gasp as the new comers lowered their hoods, revealing a beautiful, red haired human woman. Who had berry red lips, and striking green eyes that were rimmed with gold. Even with the jade coloured tattoo adorning her face, there was no mistaking that this was Ruby Hawke's sister. The two were so alike, they could have been twins. Beside her, was a strikingly handsome, blonde elf. And realisation hit Evelyn with less surprise than she would have expected. It was indeed the same Zevran, that she had dallied with all those years ago.

In unison, Leliana, Hawke, and even Morrigan rose from their seats. Quickly followed by Fenris, Varric and Dagna. Even Cullen staggered to his feet, as if in a daze. The look on his face, twisted Evelyn's stomach into unexpected knots. She had heard hints and whispers during a few giggly, tipsy drinking sessions with Leliana and Josephine, that Cullen had once been enamoured with the Hero of Fereldan. It had never bothered her before, but seeing the look of almost awe on his face as he regarded the other mage, squeeze Evelyn's insides in unpleasant ways.

_'Hypocrite' _her mind chastised. Considering the confusing feelings she had towards Solas, Trevelyan knew she had no right to feel hurt or jealous.

The gathered company had fallen into an expectant silence, as the new comers shook of the snow splattered cloaks, before drawing nearer. It was Morrigan who broke the hushed silence first, when she unexpectedly chuckled.

"Not tired of making grand entrances yet, Amell?" she teased, surprising nearly everyone, by pulling the Hero of Fereldan into a brief hug.

"You know our dear, warden-commander," Zevran grinned, his rich Antivan voice still as delicious as Evelyn remembered.

"Another thing that runs in the family," Fenris stated, deadpan. As he and Ruby went to greet the pair.

At his comment, Garnet Amell gave the most charming giggle. Her eyes dancing with merriment as she released her sister from a tight embrace, and rounded on the often gruff elf. With a quickness that surprised Trevelyan, the warden-commander cupped Fenris' cheek, and planted a light kiss on the other. His look of surprise, drew a huff of laughter from both Ruby and Zevran.

"Like you'd have us any other way," she retorted, before pulling Dagna, then Leliana into giggly embraces.

"I cannot believe how long you have let your hair grow," the spy master gushed, lightly tugging on Garnet's shoulder-blade length braid.

"And you cut yours off," Garnet laughed, running her hand through Leliana's bobbed hair. With a radiant smile, the warden-commander turned her attention to Varric. "My favourite dwarf," she chuckled, hugging him tight.

"Don't let Oghren here you say that, cariño," Zevran smiled.

"It's the chest hair," Evelyn and Ruby said in union, prompting raucous laughter from the rest of the gathered company.

"You must be Inquisitor Trevelyan," Garnet smiled, offering her hand to Evelyn.

"Evelyn," she corrected, returning the gesture.

"Garnet," the warden-commander replied, a knowing look in her eyes.

In that moment, Trevelyan got the sense she had found another kindred spirit. Just like Ruby Hawke, Garnet Amell understood the burdens she was facing. And true to Morrigan's predictions, she had come to lend her help and support. Leliana had voiced her doubts that the warden-commander would be able to join them, since she had stated her and Zevran were on an imperative task of their own. However, both were in Skyhold, and Evelyn was eternally grateful that they were.

"It is good to see you again... Garnet," Cullen said, his rich voice unusually soft, as he approached.

The smile that the hero gave the commander was achingly gently, and full of affection. Wordlessly, the two embraced, and Trevelyan's insides lurched again. The pair looked worryingly good together. Zevran caught her eye, giving her a none-too-subtle wink.

"It's been too long," Garnet replied, leaning up to kiss Cullen on the cheek.

"You look good, my friend," Zevran added, moving to join them. A lay a hand on the small of Garnet's back, and she instinctively took a step back into his space. "The last time we saw you was..."

"Your wedding," Cullen finished, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. "Maker! Has it been so long?"

"Indeed," Morrigan stated, dryly. "Who would have thought Skyhold would become such a hot bed for long awaited reunions."

"Talking of reunions..." Garnet said, a smirk forming on her berry red lips. "A few of my men will be arriving soon."

"Who?" Cullen asked, sounding as if her dreaded the answer.

"Oghren, Nathaniel, Sigrun and Carver," she replied, the last name was said looking pointedly at Ruby, who positively beamed.

"No Velanna?" Cullen queered, cautiously.

"Fear not, my handsome friend. The fearsome elf will not be joining us," Zevran chuckled.

"She's off on another search for her sister," Garnet clarified, before turning her attention to Evelyn. "I hope you do not mind, but Leliana sent word of the trouble you had with the wardens of these parts, I thought having some on my most trusted companions would help keep them in line."

"Not at all," Trevelyan smiled, some of her anxiety melting away as she saw the way the warden-commander leant into her husband. "The more the merrier."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Since I brought Hawke &amp; Fenris into the mix, I couldn't leave Amell &amp; Zevran (The Mage's Assassin) out. This is obviously my take on a, slightly twisted version, of the adviser meeting before heading into the Arbour Wilds. Chapter title inspired by the Vanessa Williams song: 'Oh, How the Years Go By'.**


	74. Breathe

**Breathe**

The previous two weeks had been spent in the arid grass lands of the Exalted Plains, or Dirthavaren... as Solas had explained, mopping up the lingering undead, and dealing with the remaining breaches in the veil. It had been quite the excursion, with a greater number of party members than Evelyn would usually travel with. However, that had been the whole point.

Cullen was readying the majority of the Inquisition forces back at Skyhold, with the help of Blackwall, Iron Bull, the Chargers, and Amell's companions: Oghren, Carver and Sigrun. Dorian, Fiona, and Vivienne were putting the mage's through their paces, ensuring offensive, defensive and healing spells were up to scratch. Cole had opted to remain at Skyhold, helping in the Infirmary, and Sera had volunteered to help Leliana gather information. That left Evelyn out on the plains with Solas, Varric, Cassandra, Ruby, Fenris, Garnet, Zevran and Nathaniel. It was an experience she wouldn't forget.

Time spent tracking down Erimond and the wayward wardens, had taught Trevelyan she could work well with Ruby and Fenris. And she, along with Solas and Cassandra had been impressed with the way the pair and Varric worked seamlessly together. Still, even their unity paled in comparison to how Garnet, Zevran and Nathaniel worked as a unit. And Evelyn had never seen a mage fight like the warden-commander did. The two wardens were always perfectly in sync, as they rapidly fired their long bows. According to Solas, the bow Garnet was using was a long lost elvhen artefact: The Sorrows of Arlathan, and Amell had confirmed this, as she explained how the bow had come to be in her possession. Namely as a gift from a Dalish warrior, Ariane, and her keeper, Solan. Nathaniel's bow seemed to Evelyn to be a family heirloom, since the Howe crest was proudly engraved into the wood.

However, seeing Garnet and Zevran fight together, was almost like watching a dance. It had surprised not just Evelyn, to see the warden-commander, a renowned mage, wielding a bow. But to see her cast aside the Sorrows of Arlathan, to draw two ornate blades and rush forward to fight back to back with her husband had Trevelyan, Cassandra and even Solas blinking in amazement. Their movements were an extension of each other, each knowing instinctively where the other was, flipping and twisting to continually have the other's back. Even when Garnet cast a spell, her magic seemed to flow through Zevran as much as herself. And the way he never failed to grab his wife, and kiss her triumphantly after every battle, even whilst they were covered in blood, had Evelyn and Cassandra exchanging starry eyed glances. Much to Ruby's amusement. Who, in truth, never failed to share at least a smouldering look with her own husband, even from across a battlefield.

Equally impressive, was watching the power of the two sisters combined magic force, who were women to be reckoned with, in their own rights. Together, their fire spells seemed unstoppable. And it was only immense skill, that had just their enemies being incinerated by the devastating flames. The times Evelyn had added her magic to theirs, the results had been almost apocalyptic. The sisters had assured Trevelyan that teaching her and Dorian to do the same would be easy, since the Tevinter mage was also attuned to fire. They hadn't been sure how well fire and lightening would combine, but Garnet had given her word to teach Solas and Evelyn how to at least try the technique. Ruby had out right stated that Vivienne would be no good, not so much because of her affinity to ice, but because to make it work, you had to have a deep bond with the other mage. That piece of information had Trevelyan and Solas exchanging a weighted look.

Cassandra and Fenris also found an easy rhythm together, the two warriors complimenting each other well, and the tattooed elf commented that with Ruby's brother Carver added into the mix, they would be even more affective. And truly, it came as no surprise that Varric adapted well to working with everyone. Evelyn was sure there wasn't a person the roguish dwarf couldn't charm... much like Zevran.

Their final day out on the plains had been greatly rewarding. The last rift had been successfully closed, one of Solas' ancient artefacts had been located and activated, helping to strengthen the veil. And the last of the undead had been finally put to rest. It was an excellent end to a rewarding fortnight. However, as dusk turned into night, and their companions each fell into their respective tents, Evelyn discovered that _somehow_, the last tent had been left for her and Solas. And with Ruby and Garnet each sharing a tent with their respective husbands, Varric and Nathaniel already snoring in one, and Cassandra and Scout Harding seemingly settled in the other, Evelyn couldn't even find an excuse not to share with Solas. Not that she would... he remained a dear friend, and doing otherwise would both hurt and insult him. Still, she was nervous to spend time so alone with him, now that their feelings for each other could no longer be denied between them.

They bedded down in the small tent, somewhat awkwardly. Even though the canvas was fairly thick, the bright moonlight still filtered through the material, casting a wan glow about the tent. And despite their furs and blankets, the chill wind from the plains managed to creep in to their shelter. For a long, tortuously cold hour, they lay facing away from each other. Still both fully dressed, for neither had removed more than their overcoats and footwear. Evelyn had to imagine that if she was uncomfortable in her dragon scale armour, that the amount of belts and ties on Solas' robes must be making him equally vexatious.

"This is ridiculous," she spat in an angry whisper.

As Trevelyan sat up and began divesting herself of her armour, as if the poor articles of clothing had somehow offended her, Solas turned to regard her, his gaze questioning.

"Look me in the eye, and tell me you're comfortable," she said, in answer to his unspoken question, as she stripped down to her underwear, and the silken camisole she worn under her tunic.

A cautious smile pulled at his lips. "I cannot," he agreed.

"Then off," Evelyn huffed, gently the collar of his robe.

At the myriad of emotions that flashed across Solas' eyes, Trevelyan's heart constricted. She'd caught the brief hint of hope and want, and a part of Evelyn that she couldn't deny existed, desperately wanted to give in. However, an almost sad smile formed on her lips, and she gave a slight shake of her head.

"We're friends and adults," she said, quietly. "Neither of us are comfortable, or able to sleep, and we've shared body heat before."

"You are correct," Solas agreed.

Though he chose to keep his trews on, which Evelyn doubted would be comfortable to sleep in, Solas divested himself of he rest of his outer clothing. Which left him bare chested. Despite desperately trying not to, Trevelyan couldn't help but admire his physique. Which was just as she had seen it in the Fade. Her admiration had obviously not been as subtle as she hoped, for as Evelyn turned to gather her pile of covers, she caught Solas smiling smugly. Rolling her eyes, which prompted a chuckle from her companion, she added her furs and blankets to his.

Without ceremony, Evelyn settled herself down beside the elf, and snuggled close. Her arm gently snaked across his naked torso, and to her surprise, she heard his breathing hitch. Worried she was making their tangled friendship worse, Evelyn began to pull away, only to have her actions halted, as Solas grabbed her wrist. For several heartbeats, they regarded each other in the filtered moonlight, neither moving to break eye contact. Then, tentatively, Solas' arms wrapped around her, as if he were uncertain of his welcome.

Opening eyes that she hadn't realised she had closed, Evelyn slowly inched closer to him, as if pulled by an invisible force. In the silence that had settled around them, her arms wrapped around his neck, and her body pressed flush with his. Even in the wan moonlight, this close, Evelyn could see the flecks of colour that made up the stormy hue of Solas' eyes. His unique smell of incense and wood smoke filled her scenes, making her feel quite light headed. Slowly, his hands began to creep down her side, making her tremble slightly as his touch ghosted over her sensitive ribs. Logically, Evelyn knew she should halt his wondering hand, but of it's own volition, her leg moved to wrap over his hip instead. Their eyes still remained locked.

Tortuously slowly, his wandering hand slid between them, stopping to rest lightly on the hem of her undergarment. In another circumstance, Evelyn might have thought Solas was teasing her, but she could clearly see the hesitant question in his eyes. Despite knowing she shouldn't let them continue down this path, Trevelyan couldn't help but give herself over to her body's desires. Without breaking their intense, heated gaze, Evelyn gently ran her fingers up the tapered edge of Solas' ear. Her attention was rewarded by the normally collected elf's breath stuttering, before his hand slipped passed the last barrier of clothing.

It was Evelyn's turn to gasp, as Solas' elegant fingers deftly caressed the bundle of nerves at her apex, making her arch into him. Unable to help herself, she gently bit the fullness of his bottom lip, as he slowly dipped two fingers into her. A moan of appreciation escaped Evelyn, one that Solas' hungry kiss devoured. As their tongues danced together, his fingers continued to expertly stroke the inner walls of her sex, as his thumb traced maddening circles against her most sensitive part.

How, or when, the laces of his trews were undone, Evelyn wasn't sure. Nor when she had lost her undergarments altogether. But one moment she was writhing in pleasure due to Solas' attention, the next she could feel the rigid length of him pressing against her. And in the intense look he gave her, she could read another burning question in his eyes. In the back of her mind, Trevelyan knew it needed to end, but there was no power in Thedas that could make her deny him at that moment. Slowly, and without a word, Evelyn rolled onto her back, pulling Solas with her as she went. Feeling the solid weight of his lithe body made her moan in pleasure, a sound that seemed to shoot straight to his evident arousal.

"Ar lath ma," Solas whispered, as he entered her in a single, fluid stroke.

The unfamiliar words washed over her, but Evelyn was too consumed by the delicious fullness, to be able to ask what they meant. Instead, as Solas rolled his hips, her back bowed, making her arch against him in pleasure. The pace he set was fast and unrelenting, as if he was worried she would change her mind otherwise. All Evelyn could do was follow his lead, and gasp in pleasure. Without warning, she found herself on the edge.

"Solas," she choked out, as she clung to him.

"Ma emma lath, ma vhenan'ara," he whispered against her ear, as he found his own release.

For several, weighted heartbeats, they lay entwined together, before reality reinserted itself. No matter how much enjoyment Evelyn felt, her eyes widened at the betray she had just committed. Tears rose, unbidden, before rolling silently down her cheeks. In an instant, Solas was kissing them away, and gently running his hands through her cropped, red hair in a soothing manner.

"Atisha, my vhenan," Solas consoled. "I promise it will not seem so bad when you... wake up."

Evelyn's eyes flickered open, and she was surprised to find herself resting peacefully against Solas' bare chest. However, her undergarments and his trews were still decently and firmly in place. The most scandalous thing about their position, was that during the night, her silk camisole had ridden up slightly, and Solas' warm hand was pressed against the exposed skin of her lower back. Despite his rhythmic breathing, Evelyn could sense her companion was already awake. Most likely awaiting her.

"The Fade..." she whispering, peering up at him through her lashes.

The smile he greeted her with, was both affectionate and sheepish. "Indeed," he acknowledged, before lightly kissing the top of her head. "You are with the commander. Regardless of our attraction, doing anything in this world would be... improper. But the Fade..."

"Dreams can exist," Evelyn finished, her voice low and thoughtful.

In answer, Solas merely tightened his hold on her. In truth, Trevelyan was not sure what she thought of the whole situation. Really, it left her more confused than ever. Though she was relieved that she had remained faithful... at least in the waking world. However, one thing she was certain of, was that upon returning to Skyhold, she needed to see Cullen.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Well, another UST chapter for Trevi/Solas, because now I can't seem to help myself. I'm looking at you Lady Velvet C. Peterson &amp; Fiery Shorti... I'm blaming you two! Chapter title inspired by the ****Telepopmusik song of the same name.  
Elven translations (via DA wiki):  
Ar lath ma – I love you  
Ma emma lath, ma vhenan'ara – You are my love, my heart's desire  
Atisha, my vhenan – Peace, my heart **


	75. Wonderland

**Wonderland**

Having bathed and changed into the dress she had worn in Honnleath, Evelyn silently let herself into Cullen's office. She was relieved that the mere sight of him, still sent butterflies flittering around her stomach. Since he was in deep conversation with several of his lieutenants, Trevelyan chose to wait patiently, in an inconspicuous corner of his office. The moment Cullen spotted her, he stumbled over his words, which drew an impish smile to her face. There was something empowering, knowing she could trip up such a renowned commander, simply by walking into a room. Immediately, the lieutenants noticed something was a miss, and as one, they turned in Evelyn's direction. She gave them a respectful nod. Without prompting, they left the office, a few of the women giving Trevelyan salacious winks as they passed, much to her amusement. Without ceremony, Cullen followed them to the door, firmly shutting it behind them. A sigh escaped him, as he slid the bolt home.

"Wishing we were somewhere else," Evelyn teased, reaching to running her fingers through his strawberry-blonde curls.

"I barely found the time to whisk you away before," he chuckled, shucking off his fur pauldrons.

Weeks ago, they had made an agreement that when they were alone together, Cullen would be without his armour. In truth, Evelyn hadn't expected him to keep that promise, knowing how integral it was to him. However, her smile widened as she watched him unclip his chest piece, to reveal the plain, blue cotton tunic beneath. In silence, Trevelyan helped Cullen out of the rest of his armour, taking the time to admire his physique, even if it was still hidden from her view by the simple clothing he worn. When the task was done, Cullen gathered her into his arms, holding her close.

"This war wont last forever," he murmured into her hair. "When it started, I hadn't considered much beyond our survival. Things are different now..."

After squeezing her tightly, Cullen stepped away from her, walking towards his desk. There was an unreadable look in his eyes, that piqued Evelyn's curiosity, and made her grab his wrist to halt his movements.

"What do you mean?" she asked, closing the distance between them.

Gently, Cullen cupped her cheek. "I find myself wondering what will happen after. When this is over, I wont want to move on... not from you."

For a breathless moment, they simply regarded each other. Cullen's warm, brown eyes were full of evident affection. Though all of a sudden, doubt seemed to cloud them. An almost sad smile formed on his lips, as he stepped away from her again.

"But I, I don't know what you... that is, if you..." Cullen's stammering came to an end in a sigh, as he leant his hands against his desk, as if to steady himself.

Evelyn's heart clenched to see him this way. Despite her confused feelings towards Solas, Trevelyan knew she belonged with Cullen. There was a warmth and a tenderness in their moments together, that part of her very soul seemed to crave. What was more, Evelyn had a feeling that the commander needed her, and no matter how much she might want or care about Solas, she knew she could never leave Cullen. She did love him, even if a part of her seemed bound to her fellow mage. For better or worse, her decision was made.

"Cullen, do you need to ask?" Evelyn queried, perching on the edge of his desk.

A slow, affectionate smile spread on Cullen's lips, as he moved in front of her. On instinct, Trevelyan's legs parted, allowing him closer. Almost hesitantly, he ran his hands up the length of her arms, stopping to cup her face and gently tilt her head back, so she was looking him directly in the eye.

"I suppose not," he replied, thickly. "I..."

As Cullen leant down, as if to kiss her. Evelyn moved her hand to brace herself against the solid mahogany of the desk. Unfortunately, in doing so, she knocked a goblet off balance. The shattering of glass echoed around the circular room, and Trevelyan gasped in both shock and embarrassment. As she turned to face Cullen, to offer an apology, she found the commander regarding her with a mixture of amusement and desire. He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips, and much to Evelyn's surprise, he swept an arm across the other side of his desk. Books, papers, quill and ink, as well as an empty bottle of wine crashed to the floor. For some reason, Trevelyan found herself giggling at the spontaneity of the act.

Suddenly, Cullen's lips were on hers, hot and unyielding. It sent a rush of heat through Evelyn, as her hands found purchase on his broad shoulders. The kiss was ravenous, and both were driven by a lust they hadn't experienced together before. One of Cullen's strong hands cradled the back of her head, as his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, which she gladly gave. His unexpected passion ignited her. Trevelyan's arms wrapped around Cullen's neck, pulling him with her when he gently nudged her backwards. To say Evelyn had not expected to be lying on the desk with her handsome commander leaning over her, when she first walked into his office... was an understatement.

A moan of pleasure escaped her, as Cullen ended his assault on her mouth, to trail kisses down the column of her throat. Through their clothing, she could feel the press of his unmistakable arousal, which prompted Evelyn to run her hands down the length of his sides. Cullen groaned at her attention, burying his face in the crook of her neck. As her nails began to lightly rake a trail back up his sides, he ground against her, making Evelyn arch from the desk in a unexpected jolt of arousal. Her movement gave Cullen leeway to wrap his strong arms around her middle. And as he pulled her in for another bruising kiss, Evelyn's legs wrapped around his hips, closing the none existent distance between them.

There was a loud knock at the door, that surprised both of them, and had Cullen almost leaping away from her. A blush very evidently creeping up his neck. His hair and clothes were dishevelled, and Evelyn could guess she didn't look much better. Especially since her tunic had been tugged open when Cullen had been lavishing her throat. She would have giggled at the bashful expression on the commander's face, if there hadn't been another knock at the door.

Annoyance clouded Cullen's features, and Evelyn could well imagine he was remembering how many of their private moments had been interrupted in such a way. Trying to damped down her growing grin, Evelyn slipped passed the commander, to the offending door. Not caring for the gossip her current appearance would prompt, she open the door. Unsurprisingly, the hapless Jim was the poor, unfortunate soul on the other side. In the back of her mind, Evelyn wondered if Leliana sent the poor man on purpose. She couldn't help chuckle at the thought, and at the dazed expression on the recruit's face as he regarded her disarray.

"Evening Jim," she greeted cheerfully. "I'll see the commander gets the report." She took the scroll he was carrying from his unresisting hands. "But he'll be otherwise engaged until the morning."

She gave Jim a wink, as his mouth fell open, before firmly shutting the door. She slid the bolt home, then tossed the report on the commander's, now clear, desk. Before Cullen could say a world, Evelyn grabbed the back of his neck, and forcefully pulled him down to meet her. Her tongue cheekily licked the seam of his lips, and Cullen groaned into the kiss as her tongue warred with his. Trevelyan had waited far too long to have him like this, and she wasn't about to let the moment slip away, especially because of Hapless Jim. Her hands wandered shamelessly down his torso, and wickedly she cupped him through his trews, massaging him back to full hardness. Evelyn's ministrations had Cullen gasping her name, even as his hands slid to cup her rear.

"Anywhere comfier than the desk?" she asked in a sultry whisper, as he began to lavish her neck again.

Without a word, Cullen broke away from her, and his warm brown eyes were darkened by desire. Gently, he took her hand in his and walked backwards towards the ladder that stood in one, discrete corner of his office. The look that he gave her was both lustful and shy, a bizarre combination, that he somehow pulled off and it sent another wave a want coursing through Evelyn's body. When he stopped at the ladder, seeming unsure, she leant up and kissed his stubbled jaw.

"After you," she smiled.

For a moment, Cullen seemed to hesitate, before lightly kissing her lips. It was soft and sweet, completely at odds to just moments earlier. And as he turned to climb the ladder, Evelyn thought she saw a hint of nervousness in his lingering gaze. Idly, she wondered if this was Cullen's first time, for she doubted a life as a Templar had given him much opportunity for such dalliances, even if he had given no vows of chastity. However, her musing stopped as she got wholly distracted by the commander's shapely rear. Chuckling to herself, Evelyn shook her head, and quickly followed Cullen to the platform above.

Trevelyan wasn't exactly sure what she expected, when Cullen led her to the ladder, however she never expected that the commander actually slept up there. But there was quite clearly a neatly made bed, and a set of drawers, indicating that this was indeed where he spent his nights. Evelyn's eyes travelled from the simple bed, to the now nervous looking commander. The blush that had crept up his neck, and the way he couldn't quite meet her eyes, led Trevelyan to believe that yes... it was Cullen's first time. Even though the want still burned strongly inside her, Evelyn managed to control it enough not to pounce him, despite how much she wanted to. Instead, she took his hand in hers, before gently turning his face so he looked her in the eye.

"Do you want this?" she asked quietly.

"Maker, yes!" he answered immediately, his arms wrapping around her, as if he expected her to run off. "I am... it's just... you see..." He trailed off, at a loss for words.

No matter how many times she heard it, Evelyn couldn't help the feeling of warmth that spread from her chest, every time Cullen's nerves got the better of him, and he stuttered. According to Garnet, it was something he had done, even back in the tower, and Evelyn found it utterly adorable. Smiling sweetly, she began to pull up the hem of his tunic, not failing to miss how Cullen's breath hitched, as her fingers lightly caressed his skin. Soon, she had divested him of him clothing, stealing as many lingering kisses as she could. Playfully, she pushed at his shoulders, hinting for him to sit. Cullen readily complied with her silent request, his warm eyes almost burning, as he watched her undress. Evelyn didn't linger over the act, despite being sorely tempted to. There would be other nights to tease her commander mercilessly.

Stepping in between Cullen's legs, she gently pushed him to lie back, before moving to kneel over him. As she brushed against the length of him, he groaned, harsh and very nearly broken. Without warning, he surged upward to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Before long, Cullen's hot mouth trailed from Evelyn's lips, and across her jawline, to find the column of her throat. His tongue traced a scalding path along her skin, paying special worship to her now racing pulse.

Slowly, Evelyn trailed her fingertips down the defined expanse of his torso, appreciating how his muscles rippled at her touch, before reaching between them. Cullen jerked when she wrapped her hand firmly around him, and she couldn't help the satisfied smirk told formed on her lips in response. Placing a teasingly light kiss on his lips, Evelyn began exploring his body with her mouth. She kissed and licked down his throat, noticing the slight hitch in his breath as her teeth lightly grazed his pulse point, in time to the languid strokes she gave his manhood. She continued to kiss down his well-defined chest, and his muscled abdomen, following the path of blonde hair down from his navel.

As she reached his evident arousal, Evelyn paused, raking her gaze up his impressive physique, before regarding Cullen through her lashes. The warm brown of his eyes had all but disappeared, swallowed up by desire, and he watched her with a mix of awe and lust. Not breaking eye contact, both of Evelyn's hands move to massage the strong muscles of his thighs, as she flashed him a wicked smile, then slowly leant forward. In a languid stroke of her tongue, Evelyn caressed the length of him, revelling in his stuttering breath, and enjoying his taste and texture. Closing her eyes, she repeated the motion several times, turning Cullen's shaky breath into pants.

"Evelyn," he gasped out, his hand coming to tangle in her cropped, red hair.

""Hmmm?" she hummed in reply, sliding her lips around him.

"Ev... Evelyn, please," Cullen panted, eyes closing in pleasure as her mouth moved back up the length of him.

Finally taking pity on him, Evelyn released him from her mouth, before crawling up him, brushing her core against the length of him. The groan he gave in response, fanned the flames she already felt. Slowly, oh so slowly, Evelyn sank back onto him. Moaning in pleasure as she adjusted to the delicious fullness. Once he was hilted inside her, Cullen reached for her, cupping Evelyn's face in both his hands. The heated look in his eyes had been replaced by wonder and, dare she think it, love. Gently, he pulled her down to meet him, kissing her tenderly as she began to set a slow, gently rhythm. Time was lost to them.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**Well, obviously, this is my take on the whole desk scene. And yes, Jim did have to interrupt them... he's done it too many times for him not to make an appearance now. Also, I really needed a way to get them off that damned desk! Chapter title is inspired by the Natalia Kills song of the same name. **


	76. Days to Come

**Days to Come**

A chill gust of wind ghosted over her exposed shoulder, stirring her from the Fade. Blearily, Evelyn's eyes blinked open, not that it helped. The place was dark, barely bathed in starlight, for no moon was visible, and it took her a moment to get her bearings. Cullen's quarters. A sleepy smile spread across her lips, as she regarded her sleeping companion, and gently she smoothed a strawberry-blonde curl away from his forehead. Another gust of wind made her shiver, and Evelyn cast a baleful glare at the culprit. A gaping whole in the roof of the tower. Why Cullen hadn't gotten it fix, she didn't know, though it did explain why it was always so chilly in his office.

An arm slowly crept around her waist. Turning her attention back to Cullen, Evelyn saw he was still breathing deeply, though a slight smile was forming on his lips. Lightly, she leant forward, ghosting her lips of his. A murmur of approval escaped him, and before Evelyn realised it, she found herself pulled flush against his side. The warmth of his naked skin surprised her a little, for she still shivered in the cold. Though when Cullen rolled onto his back, tugging her with him, Evelyn simply decided to enjoy the heat. Snuggling in closer, she lay her head of his shoulder, and drifted back off to sleep...

Her eyes snapped open. Weak sunlight was now pouring through the broken roof, though Evelyn knew that was not what woke her. Still leaning on Cullen's shoulder, she tensed slightly, waiting for some sign of what _had_ roused her from slumber. An unexpected whimper, followed by a painful gasp, escaped her companion, making Evelyn sit up in alarm. Without her body grounding him, Cullen seemed to fidget restlessly, his brow furrowing deeply. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead, and his breathing was becoming ragged. Just as Evelyn was about to gently shake his shoulder in a bid to wake him, Cullen's eyes shot open.

Evelyn swallowed thickly. He was staring through her, with a look of terror etched into his face. He gasped again, and when he blinked, Cullen's eyes finally focused on her. Though she wasn't sure that is was much improvement. Upon seeing her, his gaze filled with embarrassment. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to the pillow, and sighed.

"Bad dream?" Evelyn asked gently, lightly caressing his cheek.

"They always are," he replied solemnly. "Without lyrium, they're worse."

A wave a guilt washed over Evelyn, since she had persuaded Cullen to continue his fight with the addiction. Seeing him suffer, broke her heart. Trying to wrap the eiderdown around her naked form the best she could, Evelyn shuffled a little closer to Cullen, but remained upright. She wasn't sure if touching him would trigger more bad memories, but she desperately wanted to offer her support. Just as Evelyn was about to ask what she could do to help, Cullen sat up, the cover pooling in his lap and exposing his magnificent torso. His warm, brown eyes were full of concern as he regarded her.

"I didn't mean to worry you," he apologised, much to Evelyn's surprise.

Gently, he cupped her face. His hand was almost hot against her cool cheek. Cullen's eyes searched Evelyn's, though she was not sure of what he was looking for. He seemed nervous, almost afraid. As if he feared that seeing him suffering from nightmares, would make her turn tail and run. At that moment, he looked so lost and worried, that Evelyn found tears threatening to form. If she had any doubts before, right then, Evelyn knew where she belonged.

"You can let me worry about you a little," she told him, gently. Cupping his cheek, mirroring the way he held hers.

A slightly blush began to creep up his neck, as an affectionate smile formed on his lips. The look he gave her was so full of warmth and appreciation, that it filled Evelyn's heart fit to burst.

"Alright..." he whispered.

"Despite the dreams, is it a good morning?" Evelyn asked, ghosting her lips lightly over his.

"Perfect," Cullen replied, leaning his forehead against hers. "You are..." He sighed, happily, and pulled Evelyn close. "I have never felt anything like this."

"I love you."

The words escaped her before she could consciously think about it. Not that Evelyn regretted it, it was the truth after all. And the stunned, but overjoyed way Cullen regarded her, chased away any worries she might have had about saying those three words.

"You know that, right?" she added.

Cullen nodded. "I love you too." His voice was an emotion filled whisper.

Upon hearing those words, a happy smile formed on Evelyn's lips, and a warmth bloomed in her chest. Yes. Despite everything, including her confused feelings for Solas, Evelyn knew she truly did love Cullen. And knowing he loved her back, somehow made the future seem a little less dark.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**Sorry for the short hiatus, family matters had to take president. Obviously, this chapter is a continuation of the in game sex scene. Chapter title inspired by the Bonobo song of the same name. **


	77. The Gambler

**The Gambler**

The cold wind ruffled Evelyn's cropped tresses, as she leant on against the outer wall of the rookery tower, and looked out over the majestic Frostback mountains. There was something peaceful, being so high up, and so late in the evening. The ravens had long since roosted, the usual bustle of the tower had subsided, and only the stars twinkling overhead knew were she was... A hand suddenly rested against the small of her back, and Evelyn was hard pressed not to jump in surprise.

"There you are, Beautiful," Varric's warm, jovial voice broke the silence. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"That never bodes well, Handsome," she chuckled, smiling down at her dwarven friend.

"Regardless, I found you just in time, or we'd have to start without you," he grinned.

Damn that dwarf. He always knew just what to say to pique her interest. According to Hawke, it was a power he also held over her. With an exaggerated sigh, Evelyn pushed away from the wall and eyed her friend suspiciously.

"Alright, I'll bite... what exactly are you starting without me now?" Evelyn smiled.

"All in good time, Beautiful," Varric chuckled, leading her back in and down the tower. "All in good time."

Before long, they had reached the botton of the winding staircase and were walking into the rotunda. Solas glanced up from his desk when he heard their approach, and gave Evelyn a small smile in greeting.

"I see you found her," he said to Varric.

"Outshining the stars," the dwarf replied, laughter evident in his voice.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at the compliment. "Will you join us?" she asked Solas.

"I am afraid I have much to do before we set off tomorrow," he replied. He paused, looking between her and Varric. "And Master Tethras has banned me from cards..."

"Cards?" Evelyn repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Way to go ruin the surprise, Chuckles," Varric laughed, once again ushering Trevelyan forward. "Come on, the others are waiting."

"Fine, fine," she sighed, throwing an arm around the dwarf's shoulders. "See you in the morning," she called, glancing over her shoulder to Solas.

It didn't fail to escape Evelyn's notice that the elf's gaze snapped up from her rear, to fix on her face. She could also swear she saw a hint of red, colouring the tips of his ears.

"Indeed," he agreed, before hurriedly returning his attention to the book that sat open on his desk.

Unable to damped down the giggle that rose in her throat, Evelyn happily walked with Varric through the main hall and out into the clear, cold night. Together, they descended the stone steps that led to the upper courtyard, before heading towards the tavern. To her surprise, the normally bustling building was deserted, save for a gathering of her companions around a large table. Even Corbett was absent from the bar.

Cassandra, Maxwell, Dorian, Cullen, Blackwall... as everyone had decided to simply stick with the name they knew, the Iron Bull, Krem, Nadia, Daylen, Cole, Josephine, Leliana, Morrigan, Ruby, Fenris, Carver, Oghren, Sigrun, Nathaniel, Zevran and Garnet were all present. Cullen's eyes seemed to light up when he regarded her, but before Evelyn had the chance to move around the table to take the seat by his side, Garnet had tugged her into the empty chair beside her. It wasn't a bad location, since it let her look directly at the commander.

"I told you I'd find her, Ruffles," Varric declared, taking the seat next to Cullen. "Deal her in!"

"I do hope I recall the rules," Josie giggled, dealing Trevelyan her cards. "It's been ages since I've played a game of Wicked Grace."

"You're not the only one," Evelyn laughed.

"Oh Bella, I am more than willing to give you some... hands on help, if you require," Zevran purred.

It was Ruby who leant over and hit the elf lightly on the back of his head. Followed by Fenris putting an arm around Garnet and saying: "Why do you put up with him?" There was the barest hint of a smile as the tattoo elf spoke, and Evelyn got the impression that this was something run of the mill between the quartet.

Garnet shrugged, though surprisingly rested back into her brother-in-law's loose hold. "He's quite a good bed warmer," she replied, deadpan.

Cullen spluttered the gulp of ale he had just taken. Varric grinned, and Bull roared with laughter. The way Leliana and Morrigan exchanged a glance before outright laughing, prompted Evelyn to believe that was also a long running joke between them. Zevran picked up his wife's hand, and lightly kissed her knuckles.

"You are too kind, mi amora," he said playful.

Despite his light tone, the fire in his eyes as he regarded Garnet was unmistakable. Zevran might be an outrageous, incorrigible flirt, but it was more than obvious how devoted he was to the warden, and how much he loved her. Once again, Evelyn and Cassandra exchanged sly, appreciative glances at the sight.

"We playing cards, or what?" Bull asked, draping his large arm over the back of Dorian's chair.

Cassandra made a disgruntled noise. "Are three drakes better than a pair of swords? I can never remember."

Maxwell chuckled, kissing the warrior on the temple.

Varric held up his hands, a grin spreading across his face. "Seeker, remember how I said 'Don't show anyone your hand'? That rule includes announcing it to the table."

"There's a crown on his head, but a sword too. His head didn't want either," Cole suddenly announced, in his usually, bewildering style.

Evelyn and Varric exchanged a familiar look. "Don't talk to the face cards, kid," the dwarf laughed.

"You know it seems like you have enough people, I have a thousand things to do," Cullen said, not meeting Evelyn's questioning gaze.

"Losing money can be both relaxing, and habit forming," Dorian teased, throwing Evelyn a wink. "Give it a try."

"Curly, if any man in history needed a hobby... it's you," Varric cajoled.

"Stay," Evelyn prompted, lightly tapping Cullen's foot under the table. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Good choice, mi amigo," Zevran grinned.

Josie cleared her throat. "So, dealer starts. Oh... I... believe... I'll start at... three coppers!" She tossed the coins into the middle of the table. "Do you think that's too telling?" she asked, turning to Evelyn.

Bull snorted, boldly placing two silvers onto the table. "Seriously?! Who starts at three coppers? Silver, or go home!"

"Sounds good," Blackwall agreed, tossing two silvers. "I'm in."

"Bolder the better, right?" Dorian grinned, flicking three silvers into the middle. "I'm in."

Around the table, everyone placed their bets, all matching Dorian's bold move. Some looked more confident than others, Cullen looked the most wary, as he tossed his coins into the pile. Varric simply grinned.

"Me to," he said, placing his bet, before regarding Evelyn quizzically. "Well? Are you in?"

"Of course, and raising another silver," Evelyn winked.

Cullen gasped, obviously shocked. "You haven't even looked at your cards!"

"Our illustrious leader is betting we're bluffing," Varric grinned.

Trevelyan raised an eyebrow, sitting back in her chair. "You remember, I _do_ know you all, right?"

"Ah, always such an adventurous soul," Zevran teased, giving her a flirty wink.

In all honesty, Evelyn was suspecting that the Antivan was timing his comment for the exact moment Cullen took a drink, for once again, the commander was left spluttering. Morrigan flicked a tiny shock of lightening at Zevran, zapping his left ear.

"Feisty," he laughed, rubbing his abused ear.

As they night wore on, and more alcohol was drunk, their betting became more and more daring, and stories began to be exchanged. Bull and Krem regaled them with the Chargers' exploits. Maxwell and Daylen delighted in trying to embarrass Evelyn with tales of their childhood. Nathaniel and Carver told stories of their times exploring the deep roads with Stroud. Varric naturally spun tales of the daring deeds Hawke had got up to, often with Ruby laughing and denying such things, and Fenris declaring that... in fact, Varric's tales were not as fanciful as you might believe. Cassandra and Leliana had a few choice adventures from their time as left and right hand of the divine. Morrigan and Zevran told of the final fight against the arch demon, and Zevran's arm remained firmly locked around Garnet the entire time, almost as if making sure she was still by his side. To Evelyn's surprise, Cullen and Garnet began telling tales from their time in Fereldan's Circle. It was odd the see how relaxed and open the commander became under the warden's prompting, especially after hearing how he used to clam up and become a stuttering wreck if she so much as smiled at him. It was rather endearing, to see that the commander _did_ have people from his past that cared for him, other than his family.

"The poor recruit, ran out into the dining hall, in nothing but his underclothes," Cullen chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. "A profound silence fell over the hall, as seventy mages and thirty Templars all turned to stare at once. Then, a slow round of applause began, and spread, until every soul was on their feet. A standing ovation."

Josie giggled, tipsily. "What... what did he do?"

Evelyn had expected Cullen to continue, but instead his warm eyes fell to Garnet. "Do you remember?" he asked, his voice affectionate.

Garnet's grin spread as she nodded. "He saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out like he was in full armour."

"He did not?!" Cassandra gasped, looking between the commander and the warden, to see if they were lying.

"Good man," Dorian laughed.

"You're shitting us!" Bull roared.

"That's how you know it's true," Varric chuckled, shaking his head. "I could never put that in a book, too unlikely."

The night wore on. Carver and Sigrun made their excuses, hauling a completely paralytic Oghren with them. Before long, Nathaniel and Morrigan both took their leave, and Evelyn didn't miss the speculative glance that Garnet and Zevran made at the pair leaving at the same time. Daylen also made a staggering retreat, nearly toppling over as he kiss Evelyn on the top of the head as he passed. However, Maxwell had the bright idea of retrieving some bread and cheese from the kitchens, so the alcohol continued to flow, as did the stories.

"And then Hawke looks up, and says: Looks like the duke... has fallen from grace," Varric concluded.

Ruby gasped. "You lying toe-rag, I did not!" she said, indignantly.

Fenris chuckled. Pulling his wife close to his side, even as she childishly flicked a piece of cheese at her best friend.

"I'm with Ruby," Garnet announced. "Unless it's an innuendo, she's not that quick with one-liners."

In reply, Hawke pouted at her older sister. Sending raucous laughter rippling around the table.

"Is that _really_ how Duke Prosper died?" Josie asked, her ebony eyes shining brightly.

Self-consciously, Ruby rubbed the back of her neck. "Um... yeah," she said, a little sheepishly.

"You know," Josie replied, thoughtfully. "That's almost perfect for him."

"I think we need another round of drinks," Dorian announced, forlornly looking at his empty goblet.

"Agreed," Fenris stated, draining his glass.

Krem hummed his agreement, but could do little else, since Nadia had fallen asleep against his shoulder, and Cole had fallen asleep with his head in her lap. Krem gave Evelyn a knowing look.

"I'm starting to understand how you feel," he smiled.

"I'll get the drinks," Cullen announced, only slightly wobbling when he stood. "Don't start without me."

Once the commander was back, and drinks were handed out, several more hands were played. During that time, Evelyn couldn't help but send Cullen sly, flirty looks every so often. And if the grins on Leliana and Dorian's faces were anything to go by, she wasn't the only one to notice the vivid blush that was creeping up his neck.

"You're going to make the poor man explode," Garnet giggled in a whisper, into Evelyn's ear.

However, before she could reply, Josie was announcing yet another victory she had claimed.

"Fasta Vass!" Fenris cursed, chucking his cards away in disgust.

"Venhedis," Krem nodded in agreement.

Dorian sighed, pushing his cards away. "Kaffas..."

"Vishante Kaffas," Ruby declared, much to the evident surprise of the three men.

Evelyn gave Garnet a questioning glance. Though the warden only shrugged in reply. "Tevene," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Deal again," Cullen challenged, leaning forward. "I've figured out your tells, lady ambassador."

"Commander!" Josie admonished, draping her arm around Evelyn's shoulders. "Everyone knows, a lady has no tells."

"Él está muerto..." Zevran sighed, shaking his head.

"Then let's see if your good fortune lasts one more hand," Cullen stated.

Evelyn laughed outright. "I'm not prepared to lose anymore coin to Josie, but I have _got_ to see this."

Varric hummed in agreement, before eyeing Evelyn speculatively. "I bet you two gold, Ruffles can get Curly down to his undergarments in seven turns."

"Six," Cassandra giggled, drunkenly.

"I think five," Ruby stated, propping her chin on the palm of her hand, with her elbow resting on the table.

"My bet's on four," Dorian grinned.

Garnet chuckled. "Sorry Cullen." She flashed the commander an apologetic smile, before turning to Varric. "Three turns."

Evelyn laughed at Cullen's sputter of indignation. "Three turns," she agreed, shaking hands with Garnet.

Zevran tutted as he came to stand behind Evelyn's chair. He draped an arm around both her's and Garnet's shoulder. "Bellas... bellas," he chastised. "It's three turns and naked."

Really, it came as no surprise to find that Zevran was spot on. And Evelyn found herself biting the inside of her cheek, in a vain attempt to stop a massive smirk from spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that both Ruby and Garnet were trying hard to seem as if they weren't ogling the commander, as was Cassandra and Leliana, much to Evelyn's amusement. Varric went to open his mouth.

"Don't say a word, dwarf," Cullen stated, through gritted teeth.

"I tried to warn you, Curly," Varric laughed.

"Never bet against an Antivan, commander," Josie gloated.

"Sound advice," Garnet giggled, glancing at her husband.

"Mmm... bella, you have excellent taste," Zevran stated, his arm still draped over Evelyn, whilst he overtly eyed Cullen appreciatively. "Really... excellent taste."

The blush that spread up the commander's neck and face, was a vibrancy that Evelyn hadn't been aware could exist on a person. Garnet rolled her eyes, as Ruby out right laughed.

"Guess that's our cue," the warden stated, wrapping an arm around her husband and heading for the exit.

"Us too," Hawke declared, sighing contentedly as Fenris wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Good night," the elf stated, smirking slightly as his gaze fell on the commander.

As the pair took their leave, Evelyn was sure she heard Fenris whisper: "That Josephine is as bad as Isabela."

"I'm leaving," Cassandra announced, evidently trying not to smile. "I don't want to witness the commander's walk of shame."

"Well I do," Dorian chuckled, giving Evelyn a salacious wink.

However, as one, everyone stood and left the table, bar Cullen. Some, like Cassandra and Maxwell, Krem and Nadia, took their leave. Others, like Cole and Varric, Josie and Dorian merely wandered to other parts of the tavern. Evelyn couldn't resist kissing the mortified commander on the cheek, as she passed on her way to join Varric by the fire.

"You look _so_ good," she whispered wickedly, into his ear. Trying not to giggle at the way he shuddered at her words.

Despite already seeing Cullen in all his glory, Evelyn decided to let him have some dignity, and turned her back to the table as she sat next to Varric. However, Iron Bull obviously had different ideas, for the Qunari whooped and cheered suddenly, indicating that Cullen had made a break for it. Evelyn made a mental note to collect his clothes from Josephine before the ambassador turned in for the night.

"I'm glad you decided to join us tonight," Varric said, laying a hand on her knee. "It's so easy to mistake you for the Inquisitor."

Evelyn chuckled, squeezing the hand that held her knee. "Like I could deny you, Handsome," she teased. "I enjoyed this"

"Good to hear it," he smiled. "You up for another game, when this is all over?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, truthfully. With more feeling than she expected.

Varric squeezed her knee, and Evelyn knew he understood how she was feeling. "Could take me a while to convince Cullen again, maybe I should work the revenge angle."

"Leave him to me," she grinned, a little wicked. "Leave him to me."

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**Obviously, this is my altered take on the Wicked Grace scene. Chapter title is inspired by the Kenny Rogers song of the same name (simply because I love it!). Translations of Tevene (from DA wiki): Fasta Vass &amp; Venhedis are both swear/curse words. Kaffas means shit &amp; Vishante Kaffas means You shit on my tongue... descriptive, huh? 'Él está muerto' translates from Spanish to mean 'He is dead'**


	78. Mosh

**Mosh**

The sight of legions, upon legions of Inquisition soldiers marching on the Arbor Wilds, was something that would stick in Evelyn's mind for the rest of her life. Nor would she forget the feeling of immense pride, as she watched Cullen directing the troops. When she saw him next to Duke Gaspard, who was leading the Orlesian forces, Evelyn guessed anyone would be hard pressed to tell who was the royal. Between the joint might of their armies, the Red Templars fell in droves. And in just two short days, Evelyn and her inner circle found themselves in the heart land of the wilds. An ancient Elvhen temple was to be their next target, one that Leliana's scouts had stated they'd seen Corypheus himself, heading towards. Just as Evelyn and her inner circle were preparing to set out, several loud bangs from Orlesian cannons rang out through the jungle. Trevelyan couldn't help but scowl in their direction. Garnet tutted her annoyance, and in unison, Hawke and Cassandra made disgusted noises.

"Let us hope we reach this temple _before _the entire forest is reduced to ash," Morrigan sneered.

Making their way to the first blockade was relatively easy. Iron Bull led the Chargers and Dorian into a rampage against a solitary camp of Red Templars, which let the others slip by with easy. There was a brief spell of uneasiness, as a lone group of enemy archers tried to pick them off whilst crossing a river. However, Garnet, Nathaniel and Sera quickly dispatched them with concise shots. Upon reaching Leliana, who was commanding the first barricade, Sera along with Garnet's wardens opted to stay and defend the area. Vivienne was already there, co-ordinating half of the mage force, whilst Fiona was further ahead, with the rest of the mages.

"Good hunting, Inquisitor," the spy master called out, as they continued their trek, deeper into the wilds.

The second barricade, which was the gates that had once guarded the start of the temple complex, seemed to be over run by Red Templars. Desperately, Evelyn scanned the fighting hoards for a glimpse of Cullen, who was residing over the Inquisition forces there. A flash of fur caught her eye, but the moment of relief was quickly swept away, when Evelyn realised the commander was surrounded by Red Templar Horrors. An angry, anguished cry escaped her, as she watched Cullen stagger under the onslaught. In a heart beat, Garnet and Ruby were by her side, and together the trio sent out simultanious blasts of ferocious fire, that turned the Horrors to cinders. And even though those six were dispatched, the battle still waged around them.

"Press on, Inquisitor," Cullen called out, even as Evelyn instinctively ran to check he was alright.

However, to her surprise, two Red Templar Shadows appeared from nowhere, slicing at her. One landed a vicious blow, cutting through the leather of her overcoat, and deep into the flesh of her staff arm. With a yelp of pain, she stumbled backwards, casting as powerful a Mind Blast as she could. It wasn't powerful enough, because the Shadows were soon baring down on her. Desperately, Evelyn cast a barrier around herself, hoping it would offer a modicum of protection. Suddenly, before a Shadow could land another blow, Cullen was there. The force of his Shield Bash crumpled one of the mutilated bodies, before he whirled around, managing to decapitate the other Shadow. It was gruesome, horrifying, and Evelyn had never thought the commander looked sexier than he did at that moment.

Before she could analyse her worrying response to his brutality, there was a fearsome yell, and glancing behind her, Evelyn saw Fenris cleave in two another Shadow that had been baring down on them. For a heartbeat, the two locked eyes. Then, he gave her a brusque nod, before rushing back to fight at Hawke's side as she harried the enemy.

"You're injured!" Cullen gasped, quickly helping Evelyn to her feet, and wrapping a protective arm around her.

The worry and anguish in his warm, brown eyes took her breathe away. She had been injured before, many times, and often more severely. Though she supposed, other than after the fall of Haven, Cullen had only seen her _after_ Solas had helped patched her up. As if thinking of the elf had summoned him, Solas was also by her side. His stormy eyes were also full of concern, as he looked from her face, to her arm, and back again.

"Abelas, ma vhenan," he murmured, as the first tendrils of his healing magic joined with hers.

"Look after her?" Cullen requested, looking over Evelyn's head.

Solas inclined his head. "You needn't ask."

As endearing as it was to know they both cared, Evelyn was a little annoyed they spoke as if she wasn't there. "I'm right here, you know," she scolded.

They both had the decency to look slightly abashed.

"I turn my back for a moment, and you get yourself cut to ribbons," Varric called out in teasing.

"I was hoping to create a reason for you to fawn over me," she retorted, deadpan.

Sparing Cullen a tight lipped smile and a squeeze of his hand, Evelyn set off again. She left Cassandra, Ruby, Fenris, Garnet and Zevran, helping to hold the second barricade. With the warden whispering a promise to keep the commander safe. Evelyn was grateful for the thought, for it did actually ease the worry that was trying to tie her gut into knots.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**So... really, the beginning of the end of the main game! This chapter is pretty much because I a. wanted Amell, Hawke &amp; Trevelyan to be a bit badass together, b. I wanted Cullen to be a bit of a badass &amp; c. I wanted a weird moment between Cullen &amp; Solas! Chapter title inspired by the Eminem song of the same name... because replace president with magister... **


	79. Trip the Light

**Trip the Light**

_'You have got to be kidding me!'_

That was all Evelyn could think. Seeing the darkspawn magister resurrect himself by possessing another body had been bad enough, but seeing that dragon of his come screeching into view...

"Across the bridge. Now!" Evelyn yelled, shoving Varric in front of her.

With hearts pounded and breath ragged, the five of them raced over the tiled covered bridge, desperately heading to what Evelyn hoped would be sanctuary. The golden doors of the temple towered high, and if only they could get them closed, the doors would hopefully withstand the dragon's wrath. As she skidded inside the building, Evelyn quickly threw her weight against the door that Varric was shoving closed. Morrigan was close behind her, boots sliding on the worn stone as she scrambled to help Solas and Blackwall close the other door.

In the nick of time, the heavy golden doors banged closed, and some sort of barrier sealed it shut, just as the dragon's fireball hit. The projectile didn't penetrate, but the force of the blast was so great, that it knocked Morrigan and Blackwall clean off their feet, and set Evelyn staggering into Varric. Even though the barrier had undoubtedly protected them, Trevelyan also had a sinking suspicious that it barred them from leaving the same way they entered. Hopefully, it also meant that Corypheus' way in was barred too, though that still left Samson and his band of Red Templars roaming the place.

"Let's not do that again," Varric huffed, dusting himself off.

Blackwell grunted his agreement.

Once assure no one was injured, they set off through the majestic, towering archways that lead deeper into the temple. Evelyn knew she should be keeping an eye out for Red Templars, but she couldn't help but be distracted by the beauty of the place. Even in ruins, the temple was stunning, and she found herself wished she could have seen it in it's glory days. She was drawn in particular to a magnificent statue of a wolf in repose. Under her breath, Evelyn gave a low whistle of appreciation. Though obviously not as quiet as she thought, for Solas was suddenly by her side, looking at her quizzically.

"Why would _this_ be here?" Morrigan queried, as she came to join them.

"Something wrong?" Solas asked. His question was benign, but Evelyn thought she heard a hint of annoyance in his smooth voice.

Morrigan's perfectly groom eyebrows drew down in a frown. "It depicts the Dread Wolf, Fen'Heral. Going off elvish lore, placing a statue on him in Mythal's sanctum, is as blasphemous as painting Andraste naked in the Chantry!"

Evelyn laughed outright at the picture that conjured, Blackwall and Varric joined in, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught the smirk Solas was trying to hide.

"Perhaps even the elves do not know as much about ancient elvhen as they like to think," she said, thoughtfully.

"Some chantries display statues of Maferath as part of the chant," Blackwall mused.

"It might fulfil a similar function," Morrigan agreed. "A reminder of vigilance to the faithful."

"For all your knowledge, Lady Morrigan, you cannot resist giving legend the weight of history," Solas said, coolly. "The wise do not mistake one for the other."

"Pray tell, what does our elven 'expert' sense lurking behind this?" the witch sneered.

"None that we can discern by staring at it," he snapped in reply.

"You look like you're about to kiss, should we leave you two alone?" Evelyn asked, dryly. Which prompted Varric and Blackwall wander off, chuckling.

"Tis time we pressed forward," Morrigan stated, hotly, storming off after the others.

As they departed, Solas remained, his eyes narrowed slightly. For a moment, nothing was said between them, and nothing happened. All of a sudden, he surged forward. Surprised, Evelyn back up, until she was pressed against the beautiful statue. Without a word, he cupped her face, his stormy eyes regarding her intently. Evelyn's heart began to race in her chest, as the pull that she had diligently tried to avoid, began to tug at her. He was so close, that she could feel the heat of him through their clothing, and she couldn't help but admire the figure he cut in his modified ancient, elvhen robes. Solas looked almost regal, and in the setting of the temple, he looked like he belonged. Like he could have been one of the ancient elves.

His thumb gently traced Evelyn's lower lip, and he leant in slightly. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her again, like he had in the glade. The confused, conflicting emotions that she always felt around him began to surge. However, didn't move to kiss her. Instead, he leant his forehead against hers.

"The only one I want to kiss, is you," he murmured.

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**So just a little scene I wanted to add for inside the temple. Like a lot of this story, I wont be going into detail about the in game scenes, as we all played it. Chapter title inspired by the Garry Schyman/Alicia Lemke song of the same name.**


	80. Listen to Your Heart

**Listen to Your Heart**

Cautiously, Trevelyan entered the rotunda, unsure as to the welcome she would receive. The look Solas had given her when they had stepped out of the eluvian, said he had a few choice words for her. Which had worried Evelyn... a lot. Actually more than the thought of telling Cullen what had transpired. Which was certainly _not_ a happy prospect. If Evelyn were to be truthful, it was why she had followed Varric's advice, and hidden in a bath for nearly a full hour. Which was followed by drinking with Varric and Blackwall for another two. Evelyn knew she had been a coward. She had even sent one of Leliana's spies to dispatch a raven to Cullen, to inform him briefly of what had transpired, instead of writing the missive herself.

Solas, on the other hand, had obviously been busy, for the outline of a new mural already adorned the rotunda wall. Despite her apprehension, Trevelyan couldn't help but smile slightly. His paintings were always amazing, and perhaps this one would give her the opening she needed to start a conversation. Maker knew, she hadn't a clue how to start. However, before she could even call his name, Solas turned to face her. For a moment he looked almost relieved to see her, then his stormy eyes clouded. He strode purposefully towards her, making Trevelyan back up until she was pressed against the smooth, plastered wall. Roughly, he grabbed her. One hand holding the nape of her neck, the other gripping her shoulder. His face was mere inches from hers.

"Why?!" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Why did you do it? I warned you not to."

As nervous as Trevelyan was by Solas' demeanour, she could tell the elf was worried. "Solas..." she tried to soothe, moving to place a hand over the one that gripped her shoulder.

"You gave yourself to the service of an ancient elven god!" he practically growled, his stormy eyes burrowing into hers.

Evelyn's eyes widened. "What does that mean exactly?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady and level.

She knew Solas was more an expert on these things than she was, but she was still perplexed by the intensity to his reaction. In all the time Evelyn had known him, she couldn't think of a time he'd been so irate. However, at her question, his anger seemed to deflate. His vice like grip on her shouldered lessened, and the hand holding the nape of her neck, slid to cradle her cheek.

"You are Mythal's creature now," he said, sadly. "Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her. You have given up a part of yourself."

The sorrow in his voice shocked her.

"Why does this bother you?" Evelyn asked, searching his eyes for some sort of answer. "You don't even believe in the ancient elven gods."

Not that Trevelyan faulted him for that. If anything, she respected him more for it. Despite being the supposed Herald of Andraste, she didn't believe in the Maker, hadn't done in years... not that she would ever admit that to Cullen... or the majority of her friends, for that matter.

"I don't believe they were gods, no," Solas agreed, his voice clipped. "But I believe that they existed, as you do for Andraste. Something existed to start the legends." With a sigh, he cast his eyes downwards and released his hold of her. "If not gods, then mages," he said, softly, before adding: "Spirits, or something we've never seen." He shook his head, then his eyes raised and locked with hers again. "And you are bound to one of them now."

On impulse, Evelyn closed the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around him. Pulling him into a hug. Solas hesitated, obviously surprised by her sudden gesture. However, soon his posture relaxed and his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against himself. They stood in silence for several heartbeats, bodies flush, and Solas' smooth cheek pressed against Evelyn's. Idly, she realised they had never just hugged before.

"I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus," Solas relented, breaking the silence. "Which leads to the next logical question." He pulled away slightly, intently looking into her eyes. "What will you do with the power of the well, once Corypheus is dead?"

A gentle smile formed on her lips. "The war proved we can't go back to the way things were. I'll try and help this world move forward."

"You would risk everything you have, in the hope the future is better?" he asked, amazed. "What if it isn't? What if you wake up to find the future you shaped is worse than what was?"

The manner in which Solas spoke sent a tingle along Evelyn's spine. It was almost as if something was trying to tell her there was a deeper meaning to his words. The quiet voices that had been whispering in her head, since drinking from the well, began to almost clamour. As if they too, where trying to tell her something... something about Solas. Evelyn was almost tempted to ask them to speak more plainly, until she noticed the look in her companion's eyes. He was seeking reassurance, perhaps even comfort. Instinct, or perhaps the well's knowledge, told Evelyn there was more to this than she knew. It was something that would niggle and grate, until she got answers. But right now Solas needed her, more than she needed answers.

"Then, I'll take a breath. See where things went wrong, and try again," Evelyn replied, one hand sliding from around his neck, to cup his face.

For some reason, her words felt more like advice or guidance, rather than reassurance. And for an unnerving moment, Evelyn wondered if the were _her_ words, or words from the well.

Solas' mouth pulled into a faint smile. "Just like that?"

"If you don't keep trying, you never get it right," she replied.

Closing his eyes, Solas' smile widened, as one hand slid from around her waist, and moved to cover the hand cradling his cheek. Unexpectedly, he turned his face slightly, and kissed her palm. Her breath caught in her throat.

"You're right. Thank you."

"What for?" she asked. A little flattered by his gesture, and quite confused by his thanks.

"You have not been what I expected," he stated, looking at her intently.

Unable to stop herself, Trevelyan giggled. "That seems to be a running theme between us," she said, ruefully.

"True," he chuckled in agreement, before turning serious again. "You have... impressed me. You have offered hope, that if one keeps trying, even when the consequences are grave, that someday... things will be better." Solas paused, sighing deeply. "Forgive my melancholy. Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries, it's..." his eyes darted to the side, almost like he was trying to decide something, before his gaze returned to hers. "Stolen power, that at least we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive."

The whispers in Evelyn's mind grew louder for a moment, though their words were still just out of her grasp. She could _feel_ that there was more. Things that Solas was simply not telling her, and yet... she was overcome by a deep sadness. This felt like a goodbye.

"You planning to leave before we take down the bad guy?" Evelyn tried to joke, but her voice wavered, betraying her.

Quickly, she closed her eyes, in the hopes of regaining her composure. But that only served to let an unbidden tear escape. She went to turn away, to hide her bubbling emotions, but Solas tightened his hold on her, drawing her flush to his body. To Evelyn's surprise, he lightly kissed away the tear, before kissing her forehead. Valiantly, she drew in a shaky breath, before opening her eyes and giving him a weak smile.

"Ma vhenan," Solas whispered, his voice sounding broken.

"Thank you, Solas," she said, a little watery. "For everything. I couldn't have done this without you."

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**My take on the conversation you can have between the pair, after Trevi drinks from the well. Also, Cullen doesn't make an appearance because I'm presuming it would take a while to get back from the Arbor Wilds, even on horse back... Thedas is a big place after all! Chapter title inspire by the Roxette song of the same name.**


	81. Looking Glass

**Looking Glass**

The fall out after the Temple of Mythal had been relatively minor, well... compared to other events Evelyn had lived through. Cullen had taken the news better than she had hoped, understanding her desire to do anything short of blood magic to stop Corypheus. The group as a whole had been supportive too, with only Sera being 'freaked out', and aiming an arrow at her face. That had not been a particularly pleasant meeting, but Evelyn's calm demeanour had soon calmed the elf's fears, which had allowed everyone else to sheath their weapons.

Even the following strategy debate had gone better than expected. Morrigan had still been incensed that she had not been allowed to drink from the well, yet the witch had agreed to help decipher the whispers' meanings. Which is why Evelyn found herself in the garden so late at night. With the sun long set, she chose to walk along the covered terrace, and enjoy the peaceful quiet a moment longer than usual.

"Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I will not be left to wander the drifting roads of the beyond. There is no darkness in the Maker's light, and nothing that he has wrought shall be lost."

Cullen's rich voice drifted to Evelyn from the tiny chantry area. Gently, she pushed open the stout, oak door that stood slightly ajar. She was greeted by warm candlelight, which flickered in the gently breeze created by her entrance. The commander was free of his customary armour, clad instead in simple brown breeches and a white shirt. He was bent down on one knee, in front of the statue of Andraste, hands clasped and head bowed in prayer.

"A prayer for you?" she called out softly, carefully closing the door behind her.

"For those we have lost," he replied, glancing over his shoulder before returning to stare at the foot of the statue. "And those I am afraid to loose," he sighed.

Affectionately, Evelyn ran a hand through his curly, strawberry-blonde hair, as she came to kneel beside him. However, she chose to face Cullen, rather than the statue. For she had no prayers to give to a long dead prophet, and a god who she didn't believe existed. Lightly, Evelyn caressed Cullen's cheek, hoping to fully draw his attention.

"You're afraid?" she asked, gently.

"Of course I am. Corypheus possessed that Grey Warden at Mythal. What more is he capable of?" he asked, finally turning to meet her gaze. "It's only a matter of time until he retaliates, we must draw strength wherever we can."

Cullen's hand moved to cradle her face, and Evelyn smiled at feeling the warmth of his naked skin against hers. Even after their night of intimacy, it was rare for Trevelyan to see the commander without his armour. Events being so fraught and dramatic, neither had managed to find time for the other. Bar the sparse few hours Evelyn had stolen, to explain the events at the temple to him in private. Things that were obviously still weighing on Cullen's mind, if the look he was giving her was any indication. With a small sigh, he pulled Evelyn gently forward, so their foreheads were touching.

"I do agree with you on that," he stated, solemnly. "But when the time comes, you will be thrown into his path again. Andraste preserve me, I must send you to him."

Evelyn's heart clenched to hear the waver in his voice, and watched in shock, as a tear began to roll down his stubbled cheek. Quickly, she kissed it away. Trevelyan wasn't stupid enough not to realise Cullen would worry for her, she just hadn't realised how great his fear was. Silently, she shuffled closer to him, forcing him to sit back on his haunches, and not caring one iota that she was practically straddling her lover's lap, on the floor of the chantry. In the same silence, she reached- beneath the neckline of her tunic, and pulled out the chain that was securely tucked inside. On it, hung the silver sixpence he had given her, cleverly suspended by the help of Dagna's genius smithing skills.

"There's nothing to worry about," she soothed. "Remember, I have luck on my side."

The sentiment drew a small chuckle from Cullen, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Though his smile didn't quite reach his warm, brown eyes. That were still filled with worry. "That's less comforting than I hoped," he admitted, before capturing her lips with his.

To Evelyn, his kiss was still as intoxicating as their first. His fresh, pine scent brought her comfort. Though his solid warmth, the feeling of his strong muscles through the cotton of his shirt, was having an entirely different affect on her. She couldn't help but deepen the kiss, her tongue playfully running along his lower lip until he allowed her entrance. Languidly, their tongues danced together. And Evelyn smiled to herself, when she realised he tasted faintly of honey mead. Cullen's hands travelled from her waist to cup her rear, effectively pulling her completely on top of him.

"Whatever happens... you will come back," he whispered, barely pulling away from their kiss.

"Cullen, you don't have too..."

Worry was to be Evelyn's next word, but it never came. Cullen silenced her by suddenly cradling her face in both his hands, much to her surprise. His warm, brown eyes regarded her intently, and her breathing hitched as she saw the raw emotion in his gaze.

"Allow me this," he pleaded. "To believe anything else would be..."

She kissed him. Hard. Trying to pour all her emotion and feeling into the action. Evelyn's heart ached for him. She loved Cullen, unconditionally, and it hurt to see him so full of worry. So torn.

"Of course I'll come back to you," she said against his lips. "Always."

"Evelyn, I..."

Whatever Cullen was about to say was cut off as Leliana burst into through the door. Trevelyan might have been annoyed, if not for the near frantic look in her fellow redhead's eyes. Leliana was not a woman to be unnerved, at least not easily. So to see her like that, sent Evelyn's pulse gearing up for the fight she expected.

"Inquisitor. It's Morrigan. She's chased Keiran into the eluvian," the spy master explained, quickly.

"Chased?" Evelyn questioned, scrambling to her feet.

"Yes. She said he had somehow activated it, then followed him through." Leliana gripped her hand tightly. "Morrigan, she was frantic. I've... never seen her like this."

"Don't worry Leliana. I'll follow. Hopefully the pair of us will quickly find Keiran," she stated, giving her adviser's hand a brief squeeze.

Without waiting for a reply, or a protest from Cullen... if she were to be truthful, Evelyn slipped past the spy master, and ran to the storage room that Morrigan had appropriated. The eluvian was indeed active, it's surface swirling as it had when the witch had taken her to the Crossroads. The mirror cast an eerie blue light around the small space, adding to Evelyn's sense of foreboding.

_'Hope this takes me to them' _she thought, taking a deep breath before stepping through.

After opening eyes she had closed on reflex, Evelyn wish she hadn't bothered.

_'This... is not the crossroads' _she observed, trying to damped down the feeling of dread, as she looked around the misshapen, green landscape of the Fade. _'I wish Solas was here'._

The last physical trip into the Fade at Adamant, had been bad enough. However, her fellow mage's calm demeanour, and the attentive interest he had paid to their surroundings, had kept Evelyn calm and focused. Now, she was on her own, without ever her staff for company. Steeling herself, Evelyn began to walk forward, hoping that following a linear line would help lead her to Morrigan. The plan proved fruitful, for after ten minutes... or at least, what felt like ten minutes... you could never tell in the Fade, Evelyn found the witch fretfully pacing before a junction. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, she was not alone. Garnet Amell was by her side.

"Why would Keiran do this?" Morrigan lamented, pacing back and forth. "How could he do this?"

Quietly, Evelyn made her way towards the pair. The witch so distraught, that she didn't seem to notice her approach. Garnet, on the other hand, spotted her immediately, and offered her a worried smile. The renowned mage seemed calmer than Leliana had, though her concern was still clear in her vivid green eyes.

"Evelyn," the warden greeted, once she was close enough.

"Trevelyan?" Morrigan gasped, whipping around to face her. Her anxious concern was written all over her usually unreadable face. "We stand in the Fade. To direct the eluvian here would require immense power." The witch's shoulders sagged, and she looked close to tears. "If he is lost to me now... after all I have sacrificed..."

"We'll find him, Morrigan," Garnet assured, squeezing her friend's shoulder.

Evelyn nodded. "He can't be far."

"The Fade is infinite, he could literally be anywhere," Morrigan stated, wringing her hands as she paced. "Whatever happens to him now, is my doing. I set him on this path. Please, help me look, just a little longer."

The ending was almost a plea rather than a request, and though Evelyn was unsure what she meant about 'this path', her heart went out to the woman. Whatever else Morrigan seemed to be, which was mainly cold and aloof, she was obviously distraught over her son. Trevelyan could understand why Leliana had been so worried, and also why Garnet had followed the witch into the eluvian. Though it also spoke of their friendship, as much as it did about Morrigan's worry.

"Of course we'll help you look," Garnet smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "We will find him."

"This way?" Evelyn asked, gesturing to the right hand path.

Reluctantly, Morrigan nodded. "It's a good a path as any," she conceded.

Side by side, they began to search, never straying too far from each other, lest they became lost themselves. Thankfully, the path proved to be linear, leaving little up to debate... until they crested an incline, that revealed a sizeable clearing. In the middle seemed to be Keiran, a woman knelt before him, and a blue light emanated from his hand towards her.

"How in the fade?" Garnet murmured, quietly.

However, Morrigan's yellow eyes flashed with anger. "Mother!" she almost growled.

Without warning, or waiting for her companions, the witch stormed forward, radiating as much ferociousness as an angry she-wolf. Evelyn glanced at Garnet, who shook her head, already beginning to summon protective magic, as if she expected a fight.

"Not good," she whispered, before setting off after Morrigan.

With no other option, Evelyn hurried after her fellow mages. Deciding it best to start preparing her own magic, though she hoped it wouldn't come to that. She wasn't nearly as precise without her staff, as she would like to be. And idly she wondered if she should ask Dorian or Solas to help her with that.

"Mother!" Keiran cried out, the moment he saw Morrigan. He said it with a lot more cheer than the witch had.

"Well... isn't this a surprise?" the older woman drawled.

The sound of her husky voice, urged Trevelyan to pay her closer attention. The woman had a handsome face, lined with age. Silver white hair, that was tied in a way that strongly resembled the horns of a dragon. A gold, spiked circlet rested on her brow and plunging red armour, adorned with raven feathers about the shoulders, revealed a body Evelyn prayed she'd be lucky enough to have, even at half the woman's age.

"Clearly not the good sort of surprise," she replied, observing Morrigan's obviously rigid posture.

Garnet threw her a half smile.

"My lovely Morrigan has a flare for the dramatic," the woman stated, laying a hand atop Keiran's head. "Thankfully, my grandson is more sensible."

"Keiran is _not_ your grandson," the witch grit out, through clenched teeth. "Let him go."

"As if I was holding the boy hostage," the older woman scoffed, stroking Keiran's hair almost affectionately. "She's always been ungrateful, you see."

"Ungrateful!" Morrigan shouted, spreading her arms wide in frustration.

"Morrigan..." Garnet said, her voice taking a hint of warning. However, it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"I know how you planned to extend your life," the witch continued, pointing an incredulous finger at her mother. "You wicked crone. You will not have me. And you will not have my son!"

Her anger was so evident, that a green aura began to emanate from her. Evelyn felt her own mana thrum in response, and Garnet seemed to be readying a Dispel, should anything go amiss. The older woman merely gave a weary sigh.

"Be a good lass, and restrain her for me." She lifted a hand, and in a dismissive flick, a blue energy shot towards Evelyn.

Every part of Trevelyan's being seemed to tingle, and of it's own volition, she found her body moving towards Morrigan. Her hands gripped the witch's shoulders, and pulled her back, away from Keiran and her mother. Evelyn's eyes widened in fear, as she watched on in horror and shock, as her body moved on it's own accord, against her choice.

"What are you doing!" Morrigan demanded.

"I... I don't know," she replied, her voice beginning to tremble.

"Of course you know," the older woman scoffed. "You drank from the well, did you not?"

In unison, Evelyn, Garnet and Morrigan gasped. As one, they slowly turned to regard the witch's mother. The warden cast a worried look, first at her friend, and then at Evelyn. Before her gaze returned to the older woman. A slight dawning was beginning to occur in the back of Trevelyan's mind. Though the situation seemed so absurd, Evelyn supposed it was no crazier than her stepping out of the Breach, or being dubbed the Herald of Andraste.

"You... are Mythal," Morrigan whispered. It was not a question, more a stunned realisation.

"You are?" Evelyn found herself saying. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

It sounded utterly ridiculous, even to her own ears, though Trevelyan somehow suspected that Vivienne would be delighted with her.

"You see girl," Mythal said to Morrigan. "Those are manners, as you require a demonstration."

"I require nothing from you, but your death," the witch spat.

"You tried that once already, and see how far it got you," Mythal drawled, glancing between her daughter and Garnet, before gently ushering Keiran forward.

The boy needed no further prompting, and rushed to his mother. Morrigan, in turn, hugged the boy tightly, as soon as he was in reach. Evelyn doubted that either noticed the soft look on Mythal's face, as she regarded them together. Perhaps the crone herself didn't even realise. Though the raised eyebrow Garnet gave, let Evelyn know she hadn't been the only one to see it.

"I'm sorry mother, I heard her calling to me," Keiran explained, genuinely sounding upset. "She said now was the time."

"I do not understand," Morrigan lamented, as the boy calmly returned to his grandmother's side.

"Once, I was but a woman," Mythal began, placing a hand on Keiran's shoulder. "Crying out to the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being. She granted all I wanted, and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her."

Evelyn couldn't help but gape slightly. "Then you carry Mythal inside you?" she repeated, trying to wrap her mind around the notion.

The woman smiled humourlessly. "She is a part of me. No more separate than your heart from your chest." She paused, tilting her head to the side, and staring intently with her unnerving yellow eyes. "What do the voices tell you?"

On instinct, Evelyn closed her yes. In her mind, she could hear a thousand voices whispering, their muted cadences intertwining, overlapping. And yet, despite the clamour, their message was clearer than it had ever been. Their certainty was undeniable, and it filled Evelyn with a sense of wonder and dread. Startled, her eyes snapped open.

"They say you speak the truth."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Obviously, this is my take on following Keiran through the eluvian, &amp; I couldn't resist including Amell in it! Chapter title inspired by The La's song of the same name. **


	82. Shatter Me

**Shatter Me**

Still bewildered by it all, Evelyn watched as Morrigan and Keiran left the room. It was a lot to take in, even for her. Meeting Mythal, or what was left of her, and finding out she was indeed bound to her service, had shaken Trevelyan. Combined with Morrigan's son previously carrying the soul of an old god within him, discovering a possible way to defeat Corypheus, though with an ancient dragon to fight and win over first... It all seemed too much. Wearily, she leant against the cold, stone wall trying to let it all sink in. With a sigh, Garnet followed suit, giving her a rueful smile. Though at that moment exact moment, Cullen and Leliana rushed into the room. Evelyn reasoned she must have looked as drained as she felt, for without saying a word, the commander simply drew her into his arms and held her. With a silent wink, Garnet ushered the spy master out of the room, quietly closing the door as they left. For several minutes, Evelyn and Cullen simply remained wrapped in each other's embrace. But as pleasant as it was, it did not help calm her raging mind, or the worry that gripped her chest. Slowly, Trevelyan disentangled herself from him.

"I need to go," she stated, quietly.

Desperately, Evelyn tried to keep her voice from betraying how overwhelmed she felt. Obviously, it didn't work, for Cullen cupped her face with his hands, and looked at her intently. Worry and concern were plainly written in his warm eyes.

"Evelyn..."

Feeling guilty, she turned her head and kissed his wrist. "I just need to speak to Solas," she admitted, trying to sound calm and confident. "I think he can help clear some things up for me, then I may just have a plan to defeat Corypheus."

"Alright," Cullen said reluctantly. He kissed her forehead before letting go of her face. "Please, come find me as soon as you are done."

"I will," Evelyn promised.

Somehow, she managed a weak smile, as she walked passed him and out of the room. Diligently, Trevelyan managed to ignore the rising panic, and walk sedately until she reached the small Chantry. Then all bets where off, as she suddenly set off at an all out run. Evelyn only managed to halt her stride just before she entered the hall. Briskly, she crossed the open space, only sparing Varric a brief nod, as she slipped through the door that led to Solas' rotunda. It seemed her sudden appearance had surprised the elf, if the look he gave her were any indication. He opened his mouth to speak, though Evelyn cut him off.

"Solas, I... I need... need you... to..."

Her voice cracked and trailed off to a whisper as she spoke, the panic she felt began to physically make her shake, and Evelyn was embarrassed to admit that she could feel the hot sting of tears prick her eyes. Ashamed, she turned from him, hurriedly making her way down the flight of stone steps that led to the vault. To Evelyn, it seemed she had no choice about the breakdown she felt fast approaching. But she had too much damn pride to do it out in the open, where anyone could stumble in on it. So there was only one place Evelyn could think of to find refuge, and that was the vault's secret library. The only people to use it was herself and Solas, as Dorian had long ago declared it too sombre and dusty for his tastes. Which meant Trevelyan knew she wouldn't be disturbed, as she struggled to explain things to her elven friend. Evelyn just hoped he would follow her. She didn't think she could face going back up, and having to ask calmly. Calm certainly didn't seem to be on her body's, or mind's, agendas right now. Upon reaching the lowest floor of Skyhold, Trevelyan managed to illuminate several torches by a well, if a little hasty, thrown fireball. With a shuddering breath, she leant against the cold stone wall. Without warning, her legs buckled, sending her sliding to the floor. Without qualms, Evelyn sat there, elbows propped on bent knees with her head in her hands, trembling uncontrollably whilst she desperately fought to steady her breathing.

_'What have I done?' _she fretted, thinking back to how her bodied moved without her command. _'What will Cullen think?' _

On top of that, there was now a dragon to best in combat. The past ten she had managed to slay were with the help of her comrades, and they had been bad enough. This one seemed a lot more daunting, and she hadn't even faced it yet. Throughout everything, from the moment she had awoken in that cell in Haven, Evelyn had kept it together. Never bemoaning or begrudging what she was thrust into, accepting the role others had placed upon her, with as much grace as she knew how. Constantly, Trevelyan had tried to be strong, to inspire, to be the person everyone needed her to be. And right now, it all felt too much. She couldn't even turn to her beloved Cullen, with this. His lingering apprehension of magic, along with his own fears and worries of the upcoming battle held Evelyn back from confining in him. She had never seen him so torn and desperate as she had in the Chantry, not even at the height of his lyrium withdrawal. She couldn't bring herself to add to his burden, and in truth, she just couldn't face him. As the tears began to fall in earnest, Evelyn felt strong arms slide underneath her bent knees, and around her shoulders. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Trevelyan found herself being carried bridal style. Unable to help herself, she rested her head against the chest of the person who carried her, inhaling the scent of incense and wood smoke. The familiar smells brought her comfort, and she tighten her grasp around his neck.

_'Solas'_

Despite the tears, a weak smile pulled at her mouth as the smell of dust and musty tomes added to the elf's familiar, comforting scent. Gently, he set her down in the sole armchair of the forgotten library, and Trevelyan tucked her feet underneath her, silently watching as Solas lit several candles, before he knelt in front of her. She was unable to meet his gaze, even when he reached to take her hands in his.

"Ma vhenan..."

"You were right," she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the stream of tears. "About Mythal. You were right."

Trevelyan felt him release her hands and move to stand. For a moment she fear he was leaving, and if Solas couldn't bare to be around her now she was definitely someone's thrall, what hope did she have for the others. However, Evelyn felt him unexpectedly tilt her chin upwards, and blinking through the tears, her verdant eyes finally met his stormy grey.

"Tell me everything," he requested, his thumb gliding over her lower lip.

His calmness was like a balm to her, and with a shuddering breathe, she began to recite all that had transpired during her third time in the Fade. By the time she was explaining about the alter, Evelyn's tears and shaking had all together stopped. She even managed to give Solas a wry smile.

"I certainly manage to get myself in some strange predicaments."

"You certainly do, ma vhenan," he agreed.

Without warning, Solas moved faster than Evelyn had time to comprehend, and his lips suddenly ghosted over hers. Evelyn was surprised by the gesture, but kiss was barely a whisper, and the elf pulled away quickly. He returned her smile then, before striding confidently to one of the nearby bookcases. A little bewildered, Trevelyan tilted her head, and silently watched as Solas selected several books from the ancient shelves.

"I would suggest the most practical thing for us to do, is to find as much information we can about this alter," he stated, carrying on his search. "The well can only tell us so much. And I, for one, would prefer to have more information on this dragon we are to face. Must you do battle alone?"

"Or can the combined might of our spells, Varric's crossbow &amp; Bull's axe be the winning combination it usually is?" Evelyn teased, feeling slightly more herself.

Solas gave her an appraising look before nodding. "Indeed," he smiled, handing her an ancient, black bound tome. "This may confirm the location of the alter with the help of the well's knowledge," he advised. "Please, give me a moment."

Before Trevelyan could reply, Solas swiftly departed the small library, leaving her feeling strangely bereft. Trying not to dwell on the feeling, she began to leaf through the tome, quickly realising it contained ancient maps of long declined elven provinces. Padding footsteps made her look up from the page charting the locale of Skyhold, and her lips pulling into a lopsided smile. Solas was carrying a wooden stool in one hand, and in the other a dark green bottle that had obviously been taken from the wine cellar. Without ceremony, he handed her the drink, tapping the label as he did.

**'Vintage: Warden Riordan. Serve Yourself.' **

A lump formed in Evelyn's throat as she reread the words. When Solas gently stroked her cheek, Trevelyan turned to him, blinking back tears she thought had already been cried out. The urge to drag him down for a kiss, made a startling appearance, much to Evelyn's shock. In hopes to stave off the compulsion, she cradled his hand to her cheek instead. A gesture that Solas seemed both astonish and touched by, for his eyes widened in surprise, before his gaze softened considerably.

"With regards to the rest, I will search the Fade. Perhaps one of my friends will know of a way for you to protect yourself," he told her, gently.

Gut feeling told Evelyn that it was a long shot... or perhaps it was the whispers, but she was grateful that he would try. She flashed him a watery smile, in thanks, before turning her attention to the bottle still clasped in her hands. Warily Trevelyan uncorked it, and gave the dark liquid a dubious sniff. The aroma was a little heady, but not unpleasant, so with a shrug, she knocked back a large gulp.

"Wow," she gasped, handing Solas the bottle as he eyed her with amusement. "That's... got a kick."

Some time later, when the bottle was nearly empty, and their supply of candles had nearly burnt themselves out, Trevelyan found the words in front of her began to swim, as her eyelids continuously threatened to close. Glancing to her side, she found Solas to already be asleep, his head pillowed on his forearms, that in turn rested on the open page of the book he had been reading. She couldn't help but smile at how peaceful he looked. The frown he had been wearing since they began their research, had been completely smoothed away. Stifling a yawn, Evelyn gathered up her tome, and sat back in the armchair, drawing up her knees to act as a book rest. However, it was a fruitless task, for as soon as her head hit the plush cushion of the back rest, Trevelyan was already sound asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note  
****So, obviously my take on the whole aftermath of meeting Mythal. And that bottle once belonging to Riordan had to make an appearance, because I really liked him! Chapter title inspired by the Lindsey Stirling song of the same name. **  
**Also, a major FYI for you all. We are moving on the 9th October &amp; we currently have no idea when we will have net sorted in our new home. So there will be a gap in posting for an undetermined amount of time, I may be able to hijack my parent's connect during that time, but there is no guarantee. I promise this story is not being abandoned, nor is it really going on hiatus, I'm just not sure when I will be able to post again after this week due to the move. **


	83. Mother of Dragons

**Mother of Dragons**

The first thing that stuck Evelyn, was the wild, unkempt beauty of the place. The lush foliage, the abundant flowers, and peaceful atmosphere. Even as a long forgotten ruin, the Altar of Mythal was breathtaking. By some unspoken agreement, Varric and the Iron Bull remained at the dilapidated entrance, as Evelyn and Solas made their way across the glade, to the altar itself.

"It is a shame, that this is all that is left of the altar," Solas remarked, as they stood in front of the lone remaining statue.

Gingerly, Evelyn mounted the dais, and rested her marked hand against the statues' stone plinth. There was no real rhyme or reason to her action, but somehow she just _felt_ like it was the right thing to do. Gently, Trevelyan brushed the brittle, climbing vines away, and traced her fingers along the worn inscription written in a long dead language. A small smile tugged at her lips, as the voices from the well began to clamour in her mind. It came as no surprise that they knew what the writing said.

"We few, who travel far. Call to me, and I will come. Without mercy, without fear," Evelyn recited.

Solas regarded her with open astonishment, and she shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. Shaking his head in what seemed like amusement, he joined Evelyn on the dais, standing close by her side. His hand gently brushed against hers, and Trevelyan couldn't help the small smile that the gesture invoked. In truth, it was rather maddening. His touch and his companionship brought her as much joy as Cullen's did. In the back of her mind, Evelyn wondered if she should feel guilty about that fact, but she had already begun to accept, that both men had a large place in her heart, even if she knew her place was with the commander.

"Cry havoc in the moonlight. Let the fire of vengeance burn. The cause is clear," Solas finished reciting. "A very old invocation. Perfectly translated..."

The last part was said with a sideways look at her, one the Evelyn imagined would make her blush, if she were that type of woman.

"The well..." she offered as explanation. "And thankfully, the voices know I'm going to butcher any attempt at elvhen, so were kind enough to translate."

A soft chuckle escaped the elf. "Thank Mythal for small mercies."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Your own fault for not teaching me anything yet," she retorted, brushing her hand against his. "It's strange that there wasn't an altar like this at Mythal's temple."

"The Temple was a place of justice," Solas explained, a far away look in his eyes. "This is different. This was were the elvhen of old called to her. Spoke to her, if you will. And then she was betrayed, murdered. And they had no one to speak to."

An edge had kept into his voice, one that made Evelyn glance at him in worry. Subtly, so as not to rouse the suspicions of Varric or Bull should they look too closely, she curled her fingers around his. Clasping his hand in a feather-light hold. There was an almost imperceivable drop to Solas' shoulders, as some of the tension left him.

"This place is beautiful," Evelyn said, hoping a change of subject would lighten his mood.

The barest hint of a smile touched Solas' lips. "As is the company," he replied. His voice quiet and low.

Not for the first time, Evelyn was glad she was not a woman to blush. "What should I do?" she asked, trying not to let his unexpected compliment fluster her.

"Call out to her."

Evelyn nodded her agreement, slowly releasing his hand. It sounded as likely a plan as any. After taking a deep, steadying inhalation, Evelyn raised her gaze to the cloudless sky. And feel more than a little foolish, shouted:

"I'm here, Mythal. Flemmeth. Just as you told me. If I must master a dragon to fight Corypheus, then send it."

Immediately, a deafening roar reverberated around the glade, sending Varric and Bull running to her side, weapons in hand. Solas also drew his staff, adopting a fighting stance.

"I think she heard you," Varric commented.

Within the span of a few heartbeats, the heavy beat of wings could be heard, swiftly followed by a golden dragon looming into view. Majestically, the beast landed effortlessly in the glade, it's rich scales reflecting the setting sun. The sight was dazzling. Evelyn had always hated having to slay the dragons they encountered, each blow was always dealt with a heavy heart, but there had never been any choice. Dragon's didn't tend to do diplomacy, and it was impossible to outrun one. However, this time, this dragon seemed different. As it folded it's wings, and levelled one molten coloured eye at her, and Evelyn knew in her heart, bloodshed would not be necessary. Cautiously, she began to edge closer to the magnificent beast. Paying careful attention to each time it curled it's claws into the grass covered floor, or flared it's nostrils. It snorted once, as a wary horse might... just with an added cloud of smoke. The action prompted Varric to step in front of Evelyn, as if to protect her. The dwarf's gesture humbled her, though she lay a light hand on his shoulder, ushering him to the side.

Trevelyan took another, slow step forward, and the dragon responded by pawing at the earth. Behind her, Evelyn heard her companions move to rush forward into battle, though she turned to them calmly. With a gentle smile, she held up her hand, silently asking them to stay were they were. Varric and Solas exchanged concerned glances, and Bull looked murderous, though all three gave their acquiescence. A few more careful strides forward, brought Evelyn face to snout with the dragon. Who gave her a dubious sniff, before roaring loudly. The smell of it's breath was quite overpowering, like a pack of mabaris just after feeding time, and Trevelyan was hard pressed not to recoil in disgust. Especially as several large drops of dragon saliva splashed on her leather armour. However, it was a small mercy none hit her face or hair, and she gave a silent thought of thanks to Mythal for that.

Seeing that she had not budged, the dragon gave her another, slightly less dubious sniff. Slowly, Evelyn raised her hand, offering the back of her knuckles, as she would to an unfamiliar hound. To her surprise, the dragon nudged her hand gently, prompting Evelyn to lay the palm of her hand against it's massive snout. A tingling sensation seemed to sweep through her body, and before she could react, Evelyn noticed a blue aura emanating from her hand... her body. She felt her mana, her energy, almost her very being, drifting towards the great beast. The same, curious glow surrounded the dragon who regarded her with an ageless stare. To her astonishment, Evelyn began to feel the slightest hint of another presence, and it took several rapid heart beats for her to realise it was the dragon. The touch against her concious was light, gentle. As quickly as it started, it was over. The shimmering blue light faded from existence, though a remanent seemed to flash through the dragon's molten eyes. For one long, breathless moment, the beast regarded her with a heavy gaze. Then, without warning, it flapped it's mighty wings, and took to the sky once more. Roaring it's farewell, as the tower tree line swallowed it's departure. Several moments passed, with a stunned silence seemingly hanging over the glade. Until...

"Yeah... _that_ was impressive," Bull remarked, laying a heavy hand on Evelyn's shoulder.

"You alright, Beautiful?" Varric asked, nudging her hip.

"Yes," she replied at length, still gazing after the dragon. "It will come when I summon it, once. But that should be enough to fight Corypheus. We have our dragon..."

"All you need now is Corypheus and bam!" Varric grinned, patting Bianca. "Dragon fight."

"Yeah!" Bull roared in excited agreement.

Chuckling, Evelyn shook her head and waved the pair on ahead of her. The animated speculations on the coming fight broke the peaceful silence of the place, but she couldn't fault them. It was novel to see something other than worry and dread on her companions faces now-a-days. She felt a gentle hand against the small of her back, and with a small smile, Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at Solas.

"You did remarkably well, ma vhenan," he complimented.

"On day, you will have to tell me what that means," she replied.

A peculiar distant look, that was part sad and part wistful entered Solas' stormy eyes. "One day."

* * *

**Author's Note****  
As I said in my last chapter, I am moving... tomorrow in fact! So this is definitely the last update for at least a fortnight. Hopefully by the everything will be sorted &amp; our internet will be connected, but there is no guarantee. So, this is a warning there will be no updates in the next few weeks but a promise that this story is NOT being abandoned or put on hiatus. I will update asap, thank you for your patience.  
Maybe it's because I am Welsh (the dragon being the national symbol, and considered a creature of protection) but I REALLY hated having to kill the dragons. So I wanted once, just once, not to have to fight them. Thus... this chapter. Chapter title inspired by the Morning Starlett song of the same name (if you like rock/metal music, seriously give it a listen).**


	84. Heart of Courage

**Heart of Courage  
**

Hurriedly, Evelyn made her way to the war room, barely taking the time to chuck off her dusty overcoat as she all but marched through Josephine's office. Upon reaching the corridor that lead to her destination, Evelyn found Morrigan unexpectedly at her side. She gave her fellow mage a tight lipped smile.

"Your mother was telling the truth," she stated.

"Wonders will never cease." Was the not unfriendly reply.

Together they entered the war room, to find Leliana, Cullen and Josephine already waiting for them. The look of relief on the commander's face was almost overwhelming, and Evelyn spared him a small smile, before she greeted her other advisers with a polite nod.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Inquisitor?" Leliana asked patiently.

"I certainly hope so," Evelyn replied.

"Then all that remains is to find Corypheus before he comes to us," Cullen urged.

Evelyn nodded. "Agreed."

"A wise choice," Morrigan remarked.

"We've been looking for his base since all this began, without success," Leliana reminded them.

The five of them turned their attention to the large map that dominated the war table. Evelyn leant her hands against the table, as Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Morrigan made a disgruntled sound that Cassandra would be proud of.

"His dragon _must_ come and go from somewhere," Cullen grumbled.

"What about the deep roads?" Josephine asked. "I could send word to Orzammar..."

At that moment, Garnet and Ruby marched into the war room. Both women giving those already gathered a respectful nod.

"That wouldn't work," the warden-commander announce. "I've been corresponding with Bhelen since we arrived, there has been no unusual darkspawn activity. Weisshaupt has no reported sightings either."

"Kirkwall and Starkhaven are also no goes," Ruby reported. "Neither Aveline nor Sebastian have been able to report anything of use."

Just as Evelyn was about to thank them for their efforts, a blinding green light illuminated the room. The mark flared erratically in response, causing her so much pain that she yelped in surprise. In a heartbeat, Cullen was at her side holding her close to him, as Garnet channelled a soothing healing spell towards her hand, to ease the discomfort she felt. Cautiously, Evelyn raised her gaze to the window that over looked the Frostback mountains, just as her companions did. A sinking feeling settled in her gut, at the sight that greeted them.

"Corypheus!" she snarled, glaring at the swirling vortex that had reopened in the cloudy sky.

"He did that?!" Leliana asked, sounding startled. "But... why?"

"Because he's a psychopathic, regenerating darkspawn magister?" Ruby muttered, not quite under her breath.

A mirthless smile formed on Evelyn's lips. In truth, she couldn't think of a better way to put it herself. Garnet and Morrigan both gave shrugs, as if to say: 'she has a point'. And Evelyn thought that Hawke had certainly earned the right to be bitter towards Corypheus, she had already killed him once before, after all.

"Either I close the breach again..." Evelyn left the rest of the sentence unsaid.

"This is madness!" Josephine exclaimed. "If the breach destroyed the world, wouldn't it kill him as well?"

"I don't think he cares," Garnet said quietly. "The world he knew has gone. He probably thinks complete destruction is an improvement."

A grim silence settled over the seven of them, and Evelyn was lost trying to listen to the chatter of the well, before Cullen squeezed her shoulder. Though they were in an official meeting, he seemed reluctant to let her go.

"Evelyn, we have no forces to send with you. We _must_ wait for them to return from the Arbor Wilds."

Even though it was said in the same way he'd deliver any other troop report, she had the impression Cullen was begging her not to go. The thought of what she had to say next, made her heart clench. Evelyn knew it would hurt him, but there was nothing she could do. With the troops travelling on foot, rather than horse or hart, they would be lucky to reach Skyhold within a fortnight. And that was with having journeyed for a week already. It wasn't feasible to wait, however much Evelyn knew it to be the sensible option. Corypheus wouldn't wait for them, neither would the breach. She shook her head, and lightly stepped out of Cullen's grasp, offering him a weak smile as she did.

"I must go now," she stated, solemnly. "Before it's too late."

When Cullen went to protest, it was Garnet who lay a restraining hand on his forearm, and her green eyes held the weight of experience in them. "Trust her," she said, simply.

And there was nothing to be said after that.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**Yep, another twisted scene. I just couldn't help putting Amell &amp; Hawke in here! Chapter title is inspired by the Two Steps from Hell song of the same name. However, even though I've managed to get the internet up and running in the new flat, the place is throwing up a LOT of unexpected issues &amp; surprised. Unfortunately, this means I will not have as much time as I would like (or previously had) to be able to write new chapters. Which means that my updating will most likely move to being once a fortnight, instead of once a week. Just until we are a little more settled... but to give you an idea of the place, we don't actually have a usable bathroom right now! Wish us luck &amp; I promise to update as regularly as I possibly can. Thanks for your patience &amp; understanding!**


	85. Four Winds

**Four Winds**

_'It's over... it's finally over!'_

On and on, around and around. Those words repeated like a mantra. And then she was laughing... and she was crying. Evelyn sagged against Varric, neither of them able to currently stand on their own, both of them kind enough not to say anything about it. Then Bull was with them. His huge, meaty arms picking them both clean off the floor, in a ridiculously tight bear hug. The Qunari's booming laughter drowned out their own. Once he put them down, Evelyn glanced over at Solas, ready to pull him into the celebration... because he deserved it, because it was right. Because _this_... this team, these people... they were just _right_ together, belonged together. Really, it seemed like some elaborate set up for one of Sera's jokes. A human, an elf, a dwarf and a Qunari. Ex-circle mage, apostate, surface dwarf and tal-vashoth. All of them outcasts, but all of them heroes.

And yet, it didn't happen that way. Solas stood apart from them, reserved, aloof. The smile he gave her when their eyes met was sad and fleeting. He turned from them, walking to where the elvhen orb lay in several pieces. Evelyn's heart broke a little at the lonesome sight he cut, as he crouched to hunch over the artefact's remnants. Without thinking, she waved Varric and Bull ahead of them, insisting they go get medical attention. Since every one of them needed healing, for none of them had come out of their final battle unscathed. Eventually they relented, but only after another bone-crushing embrace from Bull, and a chaste victory kiss from Varric... because there needed to be some sort of contrasting set up for the passionate, jubilant kiss she would undoubtedly share with Cullen... apparently. Though turning to leave, the dwarf grabbed her wrist, before giving Solas' forlorn figure a pointed look. Evelyn understood.

"I'll try," she mouthed. For that's all she could do.

They had both seen Solas distant before, but what they are witnessing now... it was something else. With a nod, Varric left, limping down the stupidly long staircase they had fought up. In the distance, Evelyn could hear cheering, as other members of the Inquisition undoubtedly realised it was over. That Corypheus' threat had finally ended. She found herself praying to a Maker she still didn't believe in, that Cullen and the others were safe, were well, were uninjured. It was a small, selfish wish she supposed, but Evelyn couldn't help thinking that she damn well deserved it. Quietly, she approached Solas. It was impossible not to take in his hunched posture, his downcast eyes, the air of defeat he practically radiated. It tore at her heart to see him so utterly... broken. Silently, Evelyn knelt at his side, ignoring the way her back and knees protested the movement. Tentatively, she lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Solas?" Evelyn coaxed, debating whether she should just throw caution to the wind and hug him.

"The orb..." Those two quiet words held a note of complete devastation.

Without fully understanding why, Evelyn felt a tear roll down her cheek. "I know you wanted the orb saved," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Solas."

He turned to her then, his stormy eyes filled with myriad of emotions, too many to name. "It is not _your _fault."

For some reason, Evelyn felt as if there was something more he wanted to say. Something more to the situation, rather than the simple loss of an ancient artefact. Maybe it was gut feeling... perhaps woman's intuition, or the voices of the well that she was only just beginning to understand... But Evelyn knew all was not as it seemed.

"There's something more, isn't there?" she asked, cautiously reaching out to stroke his cheek with the backs of her fingers.

"It was not suppose to happen this way." His voice cracked as he spoke. Unexpectedly, he cupped her face in his warm hands, and leant his forehead against hers. "No matter what comes, I want you to know that you will always have my respect. That what I feel for you, and the brief times we shared together, those nights... were real."

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra shouted, from lower in the ruins.

"Are you and our favourite elven apostate still alive?" Dorian added, in a jovial tone.

"One moment," Evelyn called in reply, not taking her eyes off Solas.

Deep down, she had a feeling that if she did, he would somehow disappear without a trace. Solas' intense, stormy eyes searched hers, as they continued to regard each other in silence, neither paying any heed to the rain that had began to fall. Then, he surged forward, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. There was no questing tongue or gentle, nibbling teeth. Just unrelenting pressure, as he continued to hold her face. Without conscious thought, Evelyn's eyelids slid closed and her hands slid up his arms, until she cradled the back of his head. The whispering voices of the well began to clamour, growing louder with each passing heartbeat that their lips pressed together.

Evelyn's eyes flew open, a startled gasp ripped out of her as the whispering suddenly became achingly, heart-wrenchingly clear. To Evelyn the word, one born of a foreign, meant very little. And yet... she could feel the roiling emotions of the voices. The confusion, the awe... but most potently the relief, hope even. The turmoil was all the more vexing because it wasn't hers. Solas' gaze lost none of it's earlier intensity as he pulled back slightly to regard her. Though his eyes became questioning, perhaps almost slightly concerned. Refusing to release her hold of him, lest he truly move to flee, Evelyn rested her forehead against his again. Hoping to convey in that simply gesture that he still had her support, her friendship. That he always would, no matter the outcome of revealing the well's revelation.

"You're elvhen," she whispered, almost in disbelief.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**So...I had to majorly rework the ending of this chapter (&amp; the coming few) due to the Trespasser DLC! Chapter title inspired by the Bright Eyes song of the same name.**


	86. Winning

**Winning  
**

The journey back to Skyhold passed in a slightly surreal blur, if Evelyn were to be honest. Not because they had finally managed to defeat Corypheus, nor the fact that all of them were coming back relatively unscathed. It was the fact that _all_ of them were coming back. The almost shocking revelation still reverberated around her mind, and the voices of the well were all trying to put forth their own opinion or idea, all at once. Evelyn had grown accustom to the near constant headache, what she wasn't getting used to was that Solas... her quiet elven apostate, was actually one of the original elvhen. On top of that, given what his true age and scope of knowledge must be, Evelyn couldn't believe the conversation they had, just moments before having to join the rest of the group.

"_You're elvhen," she whispered, almost in disbelieve._

_Solas' stormy eyes snapped to her. First wary, then narrowed warily. _

_"How do you..." _

_He trailed off, obviously coming to the correct realisation. He sighed, moving to turn away. _

_"Forgive me, I..."_

_Without thinking, Evelyn's hand darted out, capturing his wrist in a firm hold. _

_"Don't even think it." _

_Her tone was harsher than either of them expect it to be, and Evelyn worried for a moment that the well or Mythal was controlling her. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, but didn't release her hold on his wrist.  
_

"_Don't even think of doing a disappearing act," she said, a little more gently. "Come back to Skyhold, talk to me."_

"_Why? What purpose would that serve?" he asked, obviously suspicious._

"_Because you're my friend Solas," she replied, giving him a weak smile. "Whatever is going on, has gone on, I want to help. But you need to explain it to me first."_

"_You would not be so understanding, if you knew my story," he stated, refusing to meet her eyes._

_Quiet a large part of Evelyn was incensed by the accusation, though she figured there would be little gained from losing her temper. "Try me..." she said, instead._

_He seemed to consider here words for a moment, before giving the barest hint of a nod. "And the others?"_

"_They will not hear your secret from me. Just s__tay until after the celebration."_

_When Solas blinked at her in surprise, Evelyn merely shrugged. Despite the lump forming in her throat.  
_

"_You know Josephine will be holding one, so stay at least until after that. I can guess that you are planning to leave us, and your departure would cause less suspicion that way."_

_For a long waited moment, they regarded each other in intense silence, before a small, sad smile formed on his lips. "You show me too much kindness, ma vhenan."_

Loud, raucous cheering dragged Evelyn from her thoughts. Coming back to the present, her gaze settled on the looming keep. With the sun long since set, Skyhold appeared like a giant sentinel against the darkening sky. A myriad of torches blazed and burned, illumination both the upper and lower courtyards, as well as the front visage of the keep itself. It was an image that would remain in Evelyn's mind for a life time.

"Who would have thought, an outcast Tevinter mage, greeted like a hero," Dorian chuckled, slipping an arm around her waist.

"You are a hero," she pointed out.

"Last time I took down a crazed lunatic, Fade-bent on destruction, I was forced to flee my home," Varric remarked.

"Ah, those were the days," Ruby chuckled, as she walked beside him.

"Hawke..." Fenris sighed, but a discrete smile was on his lips.

"It is hard to believe, that it has been ten years since we received a welcome such as this, no?" Zevran asked his wife.

Garnet simply smiled, squeezing his hand. "I've enjoyed the _slightly_ quieter life."

"We done good, yeah? Better be a big party," Sera muttered, mostly to herself.

"Bet you're looking forward to seeing the commander," Scout Harding chuckled, nudging Evelyn's hip. "And Maxwell," she added, throwing a wink at Cassandra.

The Seeker cleared her throat. "Indeed."

Out of the corner of her eye, Trevelyan saw Solas' jaw tense.

"Mmm... there will be a delightful victory kiss, no?" Zevran teased, grinning at Evelyn.

Solas' knuckles began to turn white, from the death grip he was holding his staff with.

"If the commander has any sense, it will be more than a kiss," Blackwall remarked.

"Not in public dear," Vivienne replied, in her usual haughty manner. "It will shock too many nobles."

Evelyn stifled a laugh, throwing the grand enchanter an appreciative look. Vivienne's sense of humour rarely made an appearance, but when it, it was always epically timed.

"Nah, there has to be a good, sturdy bed... preferably not against a wall... and without drapes," Bull grinned.

"Thanks for that. I'll make sure the rooms neighbouring yours are issued with earplugs," Evelyn replied, deadpan.

"Bitch!" Dorian hissed, though there was no missing the smile he was trying to hide.

Thankfully the roar of the crowd drowned out much of their conversation, so none but those of her inner circle heard it. Which was a small mercy, giving that there where cheering children in the crowd. As they moved towards the stairs that ascended to the keep, Evelyn caught sight of Nadia and Krem, both grinning at her. Trevelyan's smile widened when Nadia held up her left hand, and pointed to her ring finger. A small diamond caught the light. Bull obviously saw it too, for the behemoth bellowed a great laugh, before striding over to congratulate his second in commander. Grinning, Evelyn climbed the steep stone stairs. Her giddy excitement for her friend, drowned out how her body ached and protested each step she made. The single healing draft she had drank before they had left the battle ground, hadn't worked the miracle Evelyn had hoped, and her mana was still too depleted to cast an effective healing spell. Above her, she saw her advisers waiting for her. Josephine was openly smiling, Leliana was making a poor attempt to try and appear more serious, and Cullen...

When Evelyn's eyes met the commander's, her heart began to thump loudly in her chest. He was regarding her with such obvious love and pride, that if anyone hadn't known about their relationship before hand, there was no questioning it now. To Evelyn's surprise, once she reached the three of them, all bowed to her. It was a moment that made her heart feel like it had skipped a beat. Bowing... to her?! Sure, she was a daughter of noble House Trevelyan, but she was just a mage, and they were her friends. One was her lover, and they were bowing... the her! Tears threatened to prick Evelyn's eyes, as emotion swept over her. But before a single tear could fall, Cullen was pulling her into his arms, despite his armour. The clamour from the crowd grew in intensity. With a giggle, she stood tiptoed and buried her face into the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his fresh, pine smell. Grounding herself.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

"Kiss!" a voice from the crowd shouted. One that sounded surprisingly like Daylen.

"Kiss!" another agreed. One that was unmistakably Varric's.

A blush was beginning to creep up Cullen's neck, as he pulled back slightly to look at her. The question was very clear in his eyes: 'Should we?'. In the back of Evelyn's mind, she was acutely aware that Solas stood in the courtyard below, and though he knew about her relationship with the commander, Evelyn had always tried to be discrete and considerate. However, the shy almost hopeful look Cullen was giving her, was rapidly demolishing any reservations she had.

Josephine didn't help matters, when she gushed: "Oh yes do, it will be so romantic."

A giggle bubbled up in Evelyn, even as she shook her head, her grin beginning to hurt her cheeks.

"Damn it, kiss already," Bull hollered.

Cullen chuckled, as Evelyn rolled her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered again, before pressing her lips to his.

It was a fairly chaste kiss, no tongue or heat, but the press of their lips was hard and emotional. She could feel Cullen's relief physically, as his shoulders dropped and his arms tightened around her once more. Smiling to herself, Evelyn linked her fingers behind his neck, and decided this moment might be one of their most memorable... the crowd's cheering, that had become deafening, probably helped with that.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**So a bit of angst, a bit of fluff... Chapter title inspired by the Santana song of the same name.**


	87. Little Lies

**Little Lies**

It was late, very late. Certainly long passed midnight, and Evelyn sat staring into the flames that burned brightly in her chamber hearth. She sat alone. The triumphant celebrations were still raging drunkenly at the tavern, for she could hear the revelry drift through her slightly open window. Sera and the Iron Bull had been the most put out that she had declined to join them. Zevran and Oghren had exchanged a glance, before both declared they knew_ exactly_ what she and the commander would be getting up to. However, it was not Cullen that Evelyn was waiting for.

As soon as she had managed to slip away from her inner circle, Evelyn had head for her chamber, intent on a bath. She hadn't been surprised that Nadia had been waiting for her, the tub already filled. They had spent a pleasant hour together, as the pretty elf excitedly explained about how Krem had proposed... which was down on one knee, in the courtyard whilst it was snowing, and had been utterly romantic. Then, as Nadia had left, Cullen had sought her out. Evelyn had greeted him with a searing kiss, not caring if she were only clad in a flimsy, silk robe. He had mercifully changed from his armour, to black trews and cream tunic, which made the experience all the better. He looked dashing, sexy. And in truth, Evelyn would have liked nothing more than to push Cullen onto the bed and ravish him, just as Zevran had suggested earlier. However, her mind kept wandering back to the Solas and the well's revelation, and it was no small part of Evelyn that worried her fellow mage would flee, without talking to her first. Reluctantly, with her arms still tightly wrapped around Cullen's waist, Evelyn explained that she still had work to do. That she and Solas had much to discuss regarding the orb. There was a flicker of disappointment in the commander's warm, brown eyes. Though it was quickly gone, replaced by concern as he spoke of his worry that she was overworking herself. Which was a remark Evelyn couldn't help but point out the hypocrisy of. Chuckling, Cullen had conceded the point, and after having her promise they could steal a few days away together, following Josephine's celebration... because yes, the ambassador was already planning one, Cullen bid her goodnight with another steamy kiss.

That had been two hours ago.

A quiet knock at her door pulled Evelyn's attention from the flickering flames of her hearth. And a moment later, soft padding footsteps could be heard climbing the stairs. She tilted her head slightly, and gave Solas a tired smile as he reached her chamber. Without a thought, Evelyn gestured for him to join her on the couch, that she had pulled away from the stairwell and towards the fireplace. The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips as he made his way to her, almost hesitantly. It jarred Evelyn to see Solas appear nervous, since he was normally so poised. To her immense surprise, instead of sitting next to her on the comfortable couch, he gracefully knelt on the floor in front of her. Gently, Solas took Evelyn's hands in his, and bent his head over them, almost reverently. For several heartbeats, they remained like that, and the silence hung over them. She was too stunned to speak, and he seemed lost in his thoughts.

"Ir abelas, emma lath," Solas said, at last.

A quiet sigh escaped Evelyn, as she leant forward towards him. "This might be easier if I understood what you were saying."

Solas looked up at her then, his stormy eyes filled with a myriad of emotions. Though he still didn't move to stand, and kept a tight hold of her hands.

"Forgive me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Evelyn's brow furrowed in confusion. "What for...?"

"The orb," Solas interrupted, lowering his gaze again. "It was a powerful and important foci from my time. I should have kept it safe, but I was too weak after my slumber..."

All of sudden, it felt as if the air had been forced out of her lungs, and for several long heartbeats, Evelyn could do nothing but stare at the top of his head. She felt Solas tighten his hold on her hands, ever so slightly, as if he feared she would either strike him, or flee from him. Though Evelyn didn't understand why. The voices of the well grew unexpectedly quiet, as her mind tried to wrap around what he had just said. It almost seemed like Solas was admitting that the whole mess with Corypheus was his fault, but that couldn't be right. Evelyn forced a deep drag of air into her lungs, before slowly exhaling.

"Your slumber..." she said, cautious. "How long did you sleep?"

Solas glanced up at her. "A millennia."

Evelyn's eyes widened in shock. To steal Varric's words; Well, shit. Her mind tried to wrap itself around what he had just told her. Solas, the man she had fought and worked beside for months, the man she had kissed... made love to in the Fade, was older than she could ever truly comprehend. Evelyn gave another deep, controlled breath.

"Your people were really immortal?" she asked, quietly.

"In a sense," Solas replied, almost hesitantly.

She closed her eyes, thankful that the well was giving her a moment of peace. Well, as much peace as this situation would allow. It was a _lot_, even for Evelyn, to take in. Her friend, one of the men she loved, was an ancient elvhen. The things he had been witness to, the knowledge he had... Evelyn's eyes snapped open. If she were to believe that Solas had truly lived for over a millennia, and that the orb had come from his time... which she did, that meant the mark; the anchor that had branded her and dragged her life into the realm of madness, was born of ancient elvhen magic. Without concious thought, Evelyn snatched her hands out of Solas' grasp, and regarded the mark with a sort of... Really, Evelyn wasn't sure what she felt about that particular revelation. Though after another calming breath, she noticed that Solas was still knelt in front of her, now with his hands now clasped in his lap. He reminded her of a naughty mabari pup that was awaiting for punishment, which struck her as amusingly odd. Gently, Evelyn cupped his chin in her unmarked hand, and tilted his face until he looked her directly in the eye. Resignation mixed with wariness dominated his stormy gaze, and Evelyn sensed there was more Solas was holding back from telling her. Probably more than she would ever truly comprehend.

"How much do you truly know about the orb and the anchor?" Evelyn asked.

"More than I have revealed before," he admitted. "But not as much as either of us would like. I have never known a foci to mark a person as it did you."

Evelyn felt oddly dejected. "So you do not know how it will affect me, now the breach has been sealed?"

Solas shook his head. "Ir abelas, my vhenan. I do not."

"What does that mean?" she asked, suddenly.

A part of Evelyn realised that the likes of Leliana and Dorian would be greatly disappointed in her. That of all the things she could be asking an ancient elvhen... all the hidden knowledge and secrets she could be trying to wheedle out of him, she was currently more interested in Solas' exotic language, than any long lost information he could tell her. The look of surprise that crossed his stormy eyes, belied Solas' shock at her question. It seemed he also hadn't expected her benign question. However, Evelyn merely shrugged before slipping off the couch, to join him on the floor.

"You've never been one to give answers all that freely," she stated. "I figured starting with language might be an easier place to start."

"Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile.

Evelyn sighed, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, as she settled herself in a relatively comfortable position. Opting to lean her back against the foot of the couch, and drawing her knees up to her chest, thankful that she had changed from her silken robe, to a simple pair of black cotton leggings and a green tunic that had once been Varric's. Solas moved to sit cross-legged beside Evelyn, rather than opposite her as he had been, and both let their gazes wandered to the flickering flames.

"Well?" Evelyn prompted, lightly prodding his toes with her own bare foot.

"As you wish..." Solas paused, as if steeling himself. "My heart."

The last word hung heavily in the air between them. Evelyn had always figured it was a term of endearment, she just didn't think it would have any more meaning behind it, than when Varric called her Beautiful or Dorian called her Sweetheart. Evidently, she had been very wrong., and Evelyn's heart constricted at the thought of what she must have put Solas through. Especially since she'd been with Cullen.

"And... vhenan'ara?" Evelyn asked, tentatively.

Solas turned to her, his gaze weighted. "Heart's desire."

Evelyn closed her eyes at his words. Her heart was pounding, and her breath shaky. How many times had she heard him call her that? Countless. The one that stuck in her mind was when he had helped her with Cullen, at the height of the commander's lyrium withdrawal. Solas had help her with her lover, yet still called her his heart's desire... A tear rolled, unbidden, down Evelyn's cheek. Which was something that happened all too often in her fellow mage's. Before she could process what was happening, Evelyn found herself cradled in Solas' arms, just as she had when she had broken down in the under-croft. Gently, he lowered them both to the plush cushions of the couch, and Evelyn sat with her legs draped over his lap, her cheek nuzzled against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Ir abelas."

"It is I who should be apologising," he murmured against her hair.

She shook her head, words failing her. Pressing closer, Evelyn balled her hands into the fabric of Solas' jumper, and breathed in his comforting smell of incense and wood smoke. It was a scent that would always be subscribed to Solas in her mind. Silence settled around them once again, and Evelyn allowed her gaze to become lost in the dancing flames of the hearth. It was a long time until either found their voice again.

"There is little that I can reveal to you," Solas stated, quietly. "Though there is one truth I need you to know, before I depart."

Lifting her head so she could look at him, Evelyn managed a small smile, even as apprehension washed over her. "You know I am willing listen to whatever you wish to tell me, Solas."

"Ar lath ma," he said quietly, his gaze intense. "I love you."

Closing her eyes, she let out a shaky breath. "Ar lath ma," she repeated, and meant it.

When Evelyn opened her eyes again, she hadn't been expecting the look of shock that greeted her. But Solas expression said the _last_ thing he had been expecting, was for her to say she loved him in return. A slightly trembling hand cupped Evelyn's cheek, and his thumb traced her lower lip, as it had so many times before. Her heart went out to him, she felt like such a wicked bitch.

"You..."

Evelyn nodded.

Suddenly, Solas' lips were gently pressed against hers. The caress was so tender, that it left her in no doubt that what he said was genuine. Evelyn didn't doubt that there were many, _many_ things that he had lied to her about, and guessed he would continue to do so. But in this, Evelyn knew she could believe him. Without thinking, as the kiss ended, she wound her arms around Solas' neck, pulling him close. There was no hesitation on the elf's part, as his hold on her tightened, and he rested his cheek against her cropped hair.

"I could say that I wish we could have met in another life, or that things could have been different between us now..." Solas began. "But then... you may not be the captivating woman you are. And I must admit, the commander is a good man, who can give you love without reserve." He kissed the top of her head. "There are many things I regret in my life, but being able to call you falon is not one of them. When I awoke, I despaired. I saw nothing good in the world I was surrounded, until I met you."

Touched by his words, Evelyn let go of a shaky breath, before cradling his face in her hands. "Solas, I promise I will do everything I can to improve things for the elves. I know it can't bring back the world you knew, or restore Arlathan..."

His gaze slid from hers, almost nervously.

"Solas?"

A rising panic gripped Evelyn, and the voices of the well began to clamour in her mind. She may not know exactly what he was thinking, but Evelyn could well imagine what Solas intended to try to do, and the reason he was leaving. The thought left her feeling a little sick, for she imagined that whatever his idea was, it would not end well for everyone. Without thinking, Evelyn moved to straddle his lap, effectively pinning him in place. She cupped Solas' face, and forced him to look her in the eye.

"What are you planning?" Evelyn asked, her voice threatening to waver.

Solas smiled at her, somewhat sadly. "You have always shown a thoughtfulness I respect. It would be too easy to tell you too much, and I cannot risk that... or you."

"Solas..."

The profound sadness in his stormy eyes was overwhelming. "Abelas. I am sorry."

Tears began to run freely down her cheeks, as Evelyn looked at him. She felt as if a crack had begun to fracture her heart. He was going, she couldn't follow... she might never see him again. And if she did, Evelyn felt that they may be regarding each other from different sides of the battlefield. The thought filled her with dread.

"Lie to me."

Solas looked at her, surprise clearly written across his usually passive face.

"Lie to me," Evelyn repeated, holding his gaze. "Tell me, that it will be alright. That _you_ will be alright, that we will not end up opposing each other. Promise me... Lie to me."

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
**First up, chapter title inspired by the Fleetwood Mac song of the same name, because it always makes me think of Solas now! Thanks to the Trespasser DLC, this chapter underwent a MAJOR overhaul from what it was originally, in order to be able to add the DLC in later.**


	88. And the Waltz Goes On

**And The Waltz Goes On  
**

The magic that Josephine and Vivienne could work together, never ceased to amazing Evelyn. From the stunning one shoulder, red silk brocade ball gown she wore... that thankfully required no petticoats, to the unbelievable transformation of the main hall. The once austere room was now hung with lustrous cotton panels that were draped in swags across the immense ceiling, the ring velvet carpets that lined the seating areas, Highever weave table clothes, and the chandeliers... actual chandeliers, that illuminated the space. How Josephine had managed to find an orchestra at such short notice, Evelyn would never know. But up on Vivienne's balcony, the orchestra played a sweeping melody. Serving staff bustled around the gathering groups, offering drinks or canapés. The hall was packed with people, Inquisition members and nobles alike, though thankfully the former was in greater quantity. For this was their celebration, a formal one would undoubtedly be held in Orlais, in the coming weeks.

A little cautiously, Evelyn left the safety of her tower, and stepped out on to the dais. As she did so, the chatter that had been competing with the music, completely ceased. To call it unnerving, was an understatement. Still, she stood erect, just as her mother and madame Shianna had always instructed. A small smile formed on her rouged lips, and she inclined her head slightly, much in the same manner as Celene had done at Halamshiral. A round of applause started near the door to Josephine's office, and a quick glance in that direction, lead Evelyn to believe Blackwall was the cause. Idily, Trevelyan wondered if she should just walk into the crowd, or if perhaps Dorian would appear as her escort, as he had done during their dance practises. A flight of fancy took hold, that perhaps Cullen would be the one to approach the dais, and gallantly hold out his hand to her. Though Evelyn doubted he would, not so soon after their very public kiss in the courtyard, just the previous night. The commander liked to keep things as private as possible between them, which she was immensely happy about, for far too much of Evelyn belonged to the Inquisition.

However, to her surprise... and delight, none of these things happened. Just as she was about to stride into the crowd, Solas appeared before her. Evelyn's breath caught slightly in her throat as she regarded him. He wore a long line, sleeveless dress coat of black velvet, over the top of a grey silk, open neck shirt and a pair of darkened samite trews. This was paired with traditional elven leg wraps in a dark material, and a vivid red, expertly woven sash belt. With his back to the gathered crowd, who were of course riveted to the sight of them, Solas gave her an affectionate smile, and offered his hand to her.

"Ma vhenan," he greeted, as she slipped her hand into his.

"Ma Fen," she replied.

Valiently, Evelyn tried not to grin when his posture stiffened, almost imperceivable. At Solas' questioning look, she merely smiled sweetly. It wasn't as if she had spent a good hour that morning, trying to figure a suitable endearment in elvish that wouldn't raise anyone else's suspicions, only to be finally inspired by the jaw bone pendant he habitually wore... not at all. However, Solas recovered quickly, and chuckling, he led her to the area that had been allocated for dancing. The orchestra struck up a new tune, and this time the melody was moody and passionate, rising and falling in a swelling crescendo. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of music Evelyn had ever heard, and when Solas pulled her into hold, she couldn't help the hammering of her heart in her chest. There were several gasps from the gathered nobles, obviously scandalised about the Inquisitor dancing with an elf. She didn't care, on iota. They fell into an easy rhythm together, Solas leading her expertly in slightly unfamiliar steps. And if she were to hazard a guess, Evelyn would suspect it was a dance from ancient Arlathan. Thankfully, it was fairly similar to a waltz, just with more twirls and intricate footwork. Not that it was proving that much of a challenge for her, since it seemed the well also remembered the dance.

"So, you learnt this in the Fade?" she teased, light-heartedly, as he spun her in a particularly lavish twirl.

"Indeed," he chuckled, pulling her a little closer.

They continued on in the same manner, smiling at each other as their continuously rising and falling steps swept them around the empty dance floor. For no other couples were dancing, and all eyes were on them. Even Cullen's, who had moved to the front of the crowd. Evelyn felt a small pang of guilt that she hadn't given the commander the first dance... However, he hadn't approached her. Plus, he hated balls... which Solas, evidently did not. Though she suspected that must have a lot to do with his previous life as one of the ancient elvhen. A revellation that was still whirling around Evelyn's mind. As the melody progressed, Solas' right hand left her waist, and unexpectedly cupped her cheek as the twirled across the floor. His thumb lightly traced her lower lip, and Trevelyan couldn't help but smile at the familiar gesture. Though out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cullen's posture stiffen. Dorian, who was standing next to him, lay a hand on his shoulder. However, Evelyn couldn't pay them too much attention, for the slightly mischievous look in Solas' stormy gaze was distracting her.

"Do you trust me, emma lath?" he asked, as they glided across the floor.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Against my better judgement," she retorted.

The smile Solas gave in reply was bordering on wicked. Then, without warning, he grabbed Evelyn firmly by the waist with both hands, and lifted her easily into the air in an elaborate turn. The whole crowd gasped, as did Evelyn, who gripped Solas' biceps tightly. Laughter wanted to bubble up, as she smiled down at him, and he actually grinned back in response. After making a full circle, he lowered her to the floor. Just as the finally, haunting bars of the music were played on a solo violin. They were both breathing a little heavily, as they stood almost indecently close together, as applause sounded around them. Taking Evelyn's hand in his, Solas kissed her knuckles before leading the from the floor, one arm still firmly around her waist. To her surprise, and gratitude, he led her over to where Cullen and Dorian were standing. Subtly, he squeezed her hip, before releasing her. The commander wasted no time in taking her hand in his, and raising it to his lips. He looked dashing in his Inquisition uniform, and Evelyn smiled up at him a little flirtatiously.

"You were marvellous," he told her, his gaze warm and openly affectionate.

Before she could answer, Dorian's arms slipped unabashed around her waist from behind. He kissed her on the cheek, which earned them several scandalised looks from nearby nobles... and the revered mother. Though Evelyn supposed that was exactly the point.

"And you look ravishing," he purred. "Now, shall _we_ make a scene together?"

Without waiting for an answer, Dorian swept her onto the floor, spinning her as he did. Evelyn laughed freely, not caring if it was 'the done thing'. This was her best friend, and she was damn well going to enjoy herself with him. He pulled her into a formal hold, though their bodies were flush. He was dressed in a twist of the Inquisition uniform, a military style jacket paired with black trews and boots. The deep sapphire blue of his dress coat, off-setting the vivid scarlet of her dress perfectly. The apricot coloured scarf he wore somewhat clashed, however. Thought that was part of the fun. The melody the orchestra stuck up was fast paced, lively and sexy. Just as their dance seemed to be. With confidence, Dorian moved his body against hers, moving Evelyn several steps backwards, the contact of their bodies never breaking. His hold of her was strong, his smile... wickedly flirtatious. One Evelyn found herself returning easily, it was Dorian after all. His hand slipped scandalously lower down her back as their steps increased in tempo. Footwork tight together, pivots, lightening fast spins, coupled with the odd shocking back-bend. Where Evelyn knew his eyes racked down her body... the crowds gasps gave that much away. As the last frantic beat of the music ended, Evelyn was pulled in tight to Dorian's body once again. So close their lips were almost touching. There was a drawn out silence, before loud booming clapping rang out across the hall. Soon more applause joined in, until it was almost raucous. Evelyn and Dorian exchanged a single look, before both burst out laughing. He had said he wanted to make a scene, she guessed he'd got his wish.

"Damn, that was hot!" Bull grinned, meeting them as they stepped off the floor.

Cullen looked slightly dazed as he regarded her, similar to when he had seen her belly dance, but nodded his head. Solas looked less shocked, though just as appreciative, and Evelyn smiled at them both. An arm slipped around her waist, and she wasn't surprised to find it belonged to Varric.

"When I ask you to dance, don't expect anything that risqué. Okay, Beautiful?"

* * *

**Author's Note**  
**So, I really regretted not writing a dance scene with either of these two at Halamshiral, so I thought I'd rectify it here. Chapter title &amp; inspiration for Solas' dance is the Andre Rieu (composed by Sir Anthony Hopkins) piece of music by the same name. Dorian's dance is inspired by the song 'Victory' by Bond. I also want to wish everyone a very happy holiday season, whichever you are celebrating!  
**


	89. A Winter's Tale

****A Winter's Tale****

The evening was winding down, and Evelyn left Cullen animatedly discussing military tactics with Bull and Blackwall, whilst she retreated to the cooler air of the front staircase. She grinned as she passed Varric and Dagna dancing together in a lively jig, along with Garnet and Ruby who were giggling like school girls as they tried to follow the dwarves' steps. Zevran and Fenris were sitting a little ways off from the dance floor, sipping their respective drinks as they watched their wives in amusement. The blonde winked at Evelyn as she placed, a gesture she returned by blowing an exaggerated kiss in the elf's direction. After a few more minutes of weaving her way through the crowd, Trevelyan finally found herself outside the main hall. The contrast from the heat inside was stark but refreshing, and snow had once again begun to fall. The courtyards were already covered in a blanket of white, and overhead the moon shone brightly. A lone figure stood by the gates of the keep, and Evelyn didn't even question who I might be. Hitching up the skirt of her dress, she hurried down the stone steps and across the snow covered ground. Just as suspected, Solas was gazing out into the darkness, the blazing torches casting unfamiliar shadows across his face. His pack was at his feet.

"I was torn between slipping away unseen, and selfishly holding you in my arms one last time," he greeted, not taking his gaze from the darkness.

"Is there no other way?" Evelyn asked, her voice wavering.

Solas shook his head, before finally turning to face her. His stormy eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions, though regret and longing seemed the most prevalent. He gently cupped the side of Evelyn's face, and his palm was cold against her cheek. Without thinking, she covered his hand with her own. A small, sad smile formed on his mouth, before he bent to close the distance between them. Solas' movements were hesitant, almost shy, and as his lips lightly pressed against her, Evelyn choked back a sob. His kiss was wistful, sorrowful and loving all at once. It was goodbye. He stroked her cheek gently, as their kiss ended, then pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Ar lath ma, ma vhenan," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"Ar lath ma, ma fen," she replied, tightening her hold of him. "You will always have half of my heart."

"It is more than I deserve, emma lath."

Evelyn shook her head. "I am sorry it is not more."

"I am not," he mumbled into her cropped hair. "Cullen is a good man. He will love and care for you in the way you deserve, in a way I cannot."

Tears formed in Evelyn's eyes. "Solas..."

Unexpectedly, he pulled away from her, and Trevelyan looked up at him quizzically as he held his hand out to her. The snow was beginning to swirl around them driven by the gentle breeze, the stars twinkled overhead in the coal black sky, and the music from the hall drifted to them in a feather light whisper. Despite the circumstances, the moment was magical. Unable to stop a smile from forming, Evelyn took Solas' hand without hesitation, and lightly kissed his cold cheek as his free arm slipped around her waist. They began to sway together, though not quite in time to the music, that was a little too distant to hear the exact rhythm.

"Like Haven," she stated, smiling gently.

Solas kissed her forehead, before he returned her smile. "The day you took up residence in my heart."

* * *

**Author's Note  
Chapter title inspired by the David Essex song of the same name. I wanted a bittersweet goodbye for the pair, so this is what happened!**


	90. JUST A NOTE

Hello

Firstly, I want to apologise once again that my stories haven't been updated as regularly as they were, and also thank you for your patience &amp; continued support. With that in mind, I want to be completely honest &amp; open with you (though I promise, I'm not about to tell you that any stories are going on hiatus, or being cancelled).  
As most know by now, I am very heavily pregnant &amp; expecting my first child at the end of the month. Or at least I was. I've recently spent several days in hospital due to complications &amp; it now looks like I will be being induced early. Only they can't actually tell me when. Some stories already have chapters pre-written, some do not &amp; as I'm sure you can appreciate, I'm currently not in the right place to create any new content.

I promise you, I will be doing my best to continue these stories &amp; any with chapters already written will be being updated as much as current content allow. I am so very sorry about this development &amp; hope you can understand and be patient. I promise, they will all continue, I just can't give you a timeline as to when. I'm sorry.

Yours Sincerely,

Garnet Seren


	91. Victory

**Victory**

There was a weight that settled in Evelyn's heart as she re-entered the great hall. Even though she had not really felt the cold whilst she was outside, the heat within felt like a furnace. It was stifling and made her sorely tempted to turn tail and leave again. But there was no point, with only the blanket of snow and silent stars left to offer her company. So she took a steady breath, and surged further into the crowd. Solas was gone. And even though Evelyn had extracted from him a promise to keep in touch, if only in the Fade, Trevelyan highly doubted she'd ever see her ancient elvhen apostate again. Silently, she headed towards the door that lead to the garden, managing a smile for Daylen, Maxwell and Cassandra as she passed. However, before she made it to the exit, strong arms slipped carefully around her waist from behind, halting her stride.

"Am I imagining it, or do we have a moment to breathe?" Cullen asked, his voice close to her ear.

"We have a moment..." Evelyn sighed, a little sadly.

Despite her uncharacteristic melancholy, something Trevelyan hoped could be blamed on exhaustion, Cullen's laugh sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. Lightly, the commander kissed the junction where her shoulder met her neck, the boldest he had ever been in public, and Evelyn inwardly cursed herself. Here she was mourning a lost love and friend, when this amazing man doted on her. And she _did_ love Cullen, with half her heart, just as she loved Solas. But where Solas was gone, Cullen was with her, and had never wavered from her side. Not once. Evelyn knew she didn't deserve the love and adoration the commander gave her, but she silent vowed to live up to what he saw in her. She hadn't been the lover he deserved, and she was determined to right the wrongs she had done to him and their relationship.

"I think you're right," he replied, pulling Trevelyan from her thoughts. "You brought us here, you are proof that the Inquisition made a difference, that we will continue to do so."

"Our soldiers put their faith in _you_, Cullen," she pointed out, turning in his arms. "I appreciate everything you've done."

A look of shock flashed in his warm, brown eyes. "I should be thanking you. You gave me a chance to... to prove myself. In your place, I'm not sure I would have done the same."

"I never had any doubts," Evelyn told him, truthfully.

The blush that began to creep its way up Cullen's neck, was utterly adorable.

"I... I should let you... mingle," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sure everyone desires your attention. As much as I might want it for myself."

Another pang of guilt constricted Evelyn's chest at his words and she glanced away from him, momentarily unable to meet his warm gaze. Trevelyan knew, try as she might, that she couldn't help loving both Cullen and Solas, and Maker knew she had been trying for long enough to put her feelings for her fellow mage aside. However, even though the elf would always hold half of Evelyn's heart, she knew her place was with Cullen. She wouldn't... couldn't leave him, and she suddenly realised that Solas knew as much. His leaving was as much for her benefit, as it was for his. The apostate was now walking paths that Evelyn could not follow, but the commander was steadfast by her side. At that thought, a warmth spread through her, as her verdant eyes met his caramel ones once more.

"I am yours," Evelyn smiled, truthfully.

Cullen visibly swallowed. "Then, is it too bold to ask if I might claim more of your attention after all?"

"Is there something on your mind?" she asked, innocently.

Evelyn stifled a giggle, as the commander's cheeks flushed red, which was highlighted all the more by the bright shade of his military jacket. Smiling, she took his hand in hers, revelling in the feeling on his skin on hers for a change, instead of his touch being masked by gloves and gauntlets. She flashed him a smouldering look, before gently beginning to lead him away from the gardens, and towards her chamber. Evelyn didn't doubt that journey was being watched and scrutinised by at least a hundred pairs of eyes. After all, they had to weave their way through the bustling crowd that included Orlesians to get to her door. There was a wolf whistle that sounded suspiciously like Bull, and a loud drunken slur of what might have been approval from Sera, which made Cullen blush even more furiously. Evelyn merely laughed, squeezing his hand tightly. When they reached the door that led to her rooms, Trevelyan pushed it open, then turned to face the commander. With a flirtatious smile, she pulled him over the threshold, not caring one iota what anyone thought about her actions.

Once the door was shut firmly behind them, Evelyn backed Cullen up against the stout oak surface, her body pressed against his. He let out a groan that sounded almost broken, as his hands caressed the silk of her dress, moving from her shoulder blades and down towards her rear. Their lips met, hot and hard, and a small part of Evelyn was surprised when Cullen's tongue brushed along the seem of her lips, demanding entrance. He was normally gentle and somewhat shy during their moments alone, save for a few sparse encounters. The need she felt in his actions was new, and it excited her. She arched into him, her silk covered breasts dragging across the broad expanse of his chest, and his answering groan sent a shiver down her spine. Without warning, Evelyn suddenly found herself aloft. Cullen's strong arms supporting her thighs and rear, causing her legs to instinctively wrap around Cullen's waist. She couldn't help the giggle of delight that escaped, as he carried her up the stone stairs that led to her bedchamber. Evelyn's fingertips played with the strawberry-blonde curls at the base of his skull, and her mind idly wondered how easily it would be to divest him of his jacket. She had been so preoccupied with that thought, she hadn't realised they had finished their ascent, until Cullen lightly set her down on the edge of her bed.

"The battle's over, and there will be a new divine... yet I don't care for anything other than you being alive," he stated.

"I made a promise," Evelyn reminded.

Subconsciously, she stroked the chain that suspended Cullen's lucky coin around her neck. In contrast to their kiss before, her lips met his gently. She knew the gesture was meant to be reasurring and sweet, yet Trevelyan couldn't help but lightly trace her tongue along the scar the bisected both Cullen's upper and lower lips. It was a scar that she found sinfully sexy, and her teasing lick seemed to send a shiver through the commander's body. His eyes darkened considerably, and for a moment Evelyn wondered if he would simply lay her back and ravish her. A heartbeat passed as Cullen seemed to war with himself, but he eventually settled on cupping her face lovingly in his large hands. Despite a tiny pang of disappointment, Evelyn couldn't help but smile. Cullen was a gentleman through and through.

"I don't know what happens after this," he said, his voice think with emotion.

"Neither do I," she smiled, leaning into his caress. "Though I suspect it might involve Varric writing a book."

Cullen made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. "I fear you may be right."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**As promised, I intend to update if/when I can with the stories I already have chapters drafted for! And as you may have guessed, this is the start of Leviathan. I also would like to take a moment to thank everyone who has sent well wishes or inquired as to how I/we are doing. As of today, baby has six days until due date &amp; there's a good chance my treatment for severe anaemia is proving successful! Thank you all for your patience &amp; support, it means more than you know.  
Now, to the chapter... Obviously this my take on the scene when the Inquisitor leads Cullen to her room. I wanted a little more smoulder to it, but still keeping the commander's adorableness. Chapter title inspired by a 'song' of the same name, by the string quartet Bond.**


	92. I Want Crazy

**I Want Crazy**

With a weary sigh, Evelyn sank into the welcomed softness of her... their four-poster bed. It had only been a week since the victory celebration, a week since she had finally convince Cullen to leave his ramshackle tower and move into her chambers. It was an experience that Evelyn was enjoying immensely, an experience her life in the Circle had never let her hope for. Waking up to Cullen's sleepy smile every morning and falling asleep in his protective arms every night, was a dream come true for Evelyn. Even the heartbreaking nightmares the commander still occasionally suffered were nothing but a minor obstacle in their cohabitation. However tonight, she silently wished she had somewhere to escape to...

"But do you really have to go? Could we not send a battalion of our troops in your stead?" Cullen asked.

Despite herself, Evelyn watch as he slipped into bed beside her, admiring his muscular chest and abdomen. The beige linen trews he wore were slung low on his hips, and she couldn't help her eyes following the thin line of strawberry-blonde hair that travelled down from Cullen's navel. Catching wandering thoughts, Evelyn inwardly rolled her eyes, convinced his appearance was no mere coincidence. She gave him a slightly exasperated smile, as she propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. Credit where credit was due, Cullen had put forth several very impressive argument during the war meeting, admirably trying to dissuade her from the next mission. But there was just _something_ that was telling Evelyn she needed to go to the Frostback Basin. And for once it wasn't the well, the voices seemingly drawing up a blank as to what would be found there.

"You heard what Josie said," she replied, gently. "And if she thinks this Professor Kenric is reliable, then we have to check it out."

"But you personally?" Cullen pressed, grabbing her hand and pulling her close.

"Isn't it my job to be at everyone's beck and call?" Evelyn joked. "Besides, you read Harding's report. It doesn't seem that sending more troops would help."

Cullen made a disgruntled noise in response. "Her report of angry Avvar concern me."

She rolled her eyes in the darkness. "Cullen... I'm part Chasind, the Avvar do not pose anymore threat to me, than any other possibly hostile people we deal with. Besides, they are a damn site more palatable than the nobles of Orlais," Evelyn stated, which earned her a chuckle. "However, Amund should be returning to Skyhold tomorrow. I will talk to him and see if can give us any insight."

"Alright," Cullen agreed, a little reluctantly. "Who will you be taking with you?"

"Varric is a given. And with Solas no longer with us, I will be asking Dorian," she replied.

"You miss him."

It was said as a statement, not a question, and Evelyn sighed sadly. No one knew of her twisted feelings for the elf, save for Dorian... who was far too good at ferreting out information from her, but all knew of their close friendship. It had been a week since Solas had departed, and there had been no word. Truth be told, even though she wasn't surprised, Evelyn was a little hurt that Solas hadn't visited her once in the Fade since he had left. And though that was perhaps for the best, it did not make her miss him any less.

"Yes," Evelyn agreed, quietly. "And I have a feeling that his expertise would have been invaluable. But other than Varric and Dorian, I was thinking of asking Cass. Since Harritt is still repairing Bull's axe."

Cullen gave a relieved sounding hum. "I'd feel better if Cassandra went with you."

"Oh?" she queried, propping herself up on an elbow and looking down at her lover.

"Your less likely to go harrying a dragon if Bull isn't with you," he replied, deadpan, before pulling her down to steal a kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Chapter title inspired by the Hunter Hayes song of the same name. So this is the start of the Jaws of Hakkon DLC, just a little FYI in case anyone hasn't played that one yet, there will be spoilers ahead.**


	93. Leaving - A Note to My Readers

Due to the recent intellectual property theft from this site (February 2016) and FanFic's failure to do anything to protect content creators, I wanted to inform my readers that I will transferring all of my works to Archive of Our Own. You will find me under: GarnetSeren when you go to search, then people.

During this process, I will be editing the stories as I go. So they may not be fully up to date for a few weeks, if you decide to continue to follow them over on AO3. Also, certain oneshots such as 'Okasan' will be made part of a collection called 'Shepard's Men'. Curretly I am working on my Mass Effect fic; This One's Heart is Pure (as it has the most chapters), then I will move on to my Dragon Age stories.

I hope that you will continue to follow my work over on AO3. Though if you decide not to, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for all your support over the two years I have been posting to FanFic. It's meant the world to me &amp; I will greatly miss interacting with you all. My stories will remain active on this site in their current state, until the end of March, when they will be deleted. By then I should have the majority moved over to AO3. For anyone who will be joining myself over there, I look forward to talking to you again soon.


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